B 


BLR  NIC 


J  I 


*     f    r      » 


ft 


•i5ook0  bp  Blanche  SSttllis  |)otoartJ. 


ONE  YEAR  ABROAD.     European  Travel  Sketches. 

Little  Classic  style.     iSmo,  $1.25. 
ONE  SUMMER.    Illustrated  by  Augustus  Hoppin. 

New  Edition.     121110,  $1.25. 
The  Same.   Holiday  Editioyi.    Square  i2mo,  full  gilt, 

$2.50.  _ 

HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN  &  CO. 

Boston  and  New  York. 


ONE  SUMMER 


BLANCHE  WILLIS  HOWARD 

author  of  "one  year  abroad,"'  "  aunt  serena,"  "  guenn,"  and 
"aui.nay  tower'" 


WITH  ILLUSTRATIOXS 
BY  AUGUSTUS   HOPPIX 

;  Sunshine  's  everywhere,  and  surimer  too  " 


BOSTON    AND    NEW    YORK 

HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN   AND   COMPANY 

(3Cfe  fitoersiDe  press,  "Cam&nDge 

18S6 


I     ^Copyright,  1870  and  1877. 
By  JAM.ES  R.   OSGOOD  &  CO. 


All  rights  reserved. 


The  Riverside  Press,  Cambridge  : 
Printed  by  H.  0.  Houghton  and  Company. 


Page 

CHAPTER    1 15 

CHAPTER   II 26 

CHAPTER   III 43 

CHAPTER   IV 56 

CHAPTER   V 62 

CHAPTER   VI 71 

CHAPTER   VII 84 

CHAPTER   VIII 93 

CHAPTER   IX 100 

CHAPTER   X 114 

CHAPTER   XT 136 

CHAPTER   XII 153 

CHAPTER   XIII 168 

£49470 


Vlll  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  XIV 190 

CHAPTER  XV 207 

CHAPTER   XVI 224 

CHAPTER   XVII 238 

CHAPTER   XVIII 251 

CHAPTER   XIX 258 

CHAPTER   XX 266 


"  Plunged  the  apex  of  her  umbrella  directly  into  the  face  and  eyes 
of  an  unwary  pedestrian  who  was  approaching  from  the  op- 
posite direction  " Frontispiece, 

Head-piece.     Contents... vn 

Tail-piece.     Contents "" 

Head-piece.     List  of  Illustrations ix 

Tail-piece.     List  of  Illustrations si 

Leigh  Doane  at  the  window 16 

•'  A  figure  armed  with  an  umbrella  and  well  wrapped  in  a  waterproof" 25 


X  LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS. 

Head-piece 26 

"  Hound  both  eyes,  if  you  please  " 30 

"  Then  pinned  it  up  on  the  wall,  and  studied  the  effect" 38 

Tail-piece 42 

"  Jane  Maria  was  a  silly  child" : 47 

Head-piece 56 

"  Jimmy  Holbrook  seated  himself  on  the  fence  " 59 

"  Having  left  his  card  with  the  antique  maiden  " 75 

"  He  took  it  up  and  examined  it  with  pardonable  curiosity  " 79 

"  When  you  have  quite  finished  your  inspection,  sir,  I  will  trouble  you 

for  my  sketch-book  " 85 

Tail-piece 92 

"  Gem,  it 's  too  long" 101 

"  On  they  walked,  swinging  the  basket  between  them  " 109 

"  Gem  rolled  on  the  grass" 113 

'"  He  was  whistling  in  a  pleasantly  subdued  way  " 122 

'•  You  are  my  little  knight  " 128 

'"  Miss  Doaue  leaning  in  assumed  nonchalance  against  a  great  rock  " 131 

"  Philip  glanced  at  her  as  they  bounced  and  jolted  along  " 142 

"  Leigh  sat  watching  him" 151 

Head-piece 153 

Tail-piece 167 

"  She  turned  away  hastily,  and  taking  some  great  pieces  of  bark  " 1 79 

1  lead-piece 190 

"  Tom  sat  and  smoked" 205 

"  Miss  Phipps  coming  into  the  room  at  that  moment  with  hot  rolls  " 222 

Head-piece 224 

"  '  I  beg  you  will  not  say  another  word,'  said  Philip  " 229 

"  Went  off  down  the  road  to  the  cottage  " 237 

' '  Gem  steadily  improved  " 238 


LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS.  XI 

"  As  he  passed  Leigh  her  candle  " 250 

Head-piece 251 

Head-piece 258 

"  Morton  has  just  caught  a  forty-five  pound  cod  " 267 

"He  felt  the  light,  timid  touch  of  her  lips  " 277 

Tail-piece 279 


ONE    SUMMER. 


ONE    SUMMER. 


CHAPTER    I. 

"  Tile  world's  male  chivalry  lias  perished  out, 
But  women  are  knights-errant  to  the  last, 
And  if  Cervantes  had  heen  greater  still, 
He  had  made  his  Don  a  Donna." 

Mes.  Browning. 

ITH   a   half-amused,  half-impatient   expression, 

she  slowly  turned  from  an  unsuccessful  attempt 
to  see  through  the  blackness  of  darkness  out- 
side the  window,  and  looked  about  the  quaint 
old  room.  It  was  furnished  with  that  profound  regard  for 
angles  which  characterizes  the  New  England  country-house 
adorned  by  the  taste  of  fifty  years  ago.  An  uncompromising 
sofa  loftily  elevated  its  antique  back,  and  contemplated  with 
austere  approval  a  line  of  rigidly  upright  chairs  placed  at 
exact  distances  upon  the  parallelograms  of  the  carpet,  and 
Hanked  by  two  triangular  footstools.  Everywhere  was  solid- 
ity, regularity,  the  quintessence  of  stiffness,  except  in  a  deep 
recessed  window  where  a  pretty  modern  Vandal,  with  fluffy 


i6 


ONE     SUjMMER. 


golden  haii-j  was  curled  up  upon  the  faded  damask  cushions, 
and  gazing  with  wide-open  saucy  eyes  upon  the  treasures  of 


time  surrounding  her. 


"  Such  a  hopelessly  heavy  rain  !     I  Mould  like  to  be  a  man 
just  long  enough  to  run  down  to  Pratt's  for  that  book,  but  no 


ONE     SUMMER.  IJ 

longer,  0  no,  nut  a  moment  longer  !  "  And  she  complacently 
glanced  down  at  the  lace  ruffles  falling  over  her  pretty  wrists, 
with  conscious  satisfaction  shook  out  her  soft  draperies,  and 
meditatively  eyed  the  tips  of  her  delicate  French  kid  boots. 

Renounce  these  delicious  feminine  belongings  and  be  trans- 
formed into  a  great  man  in  an  ugly  tall  hat  and  a  dress  all 
straight  lines  and  angles  like  that  odious  room?  Never! 
Not  for  all  possible  wealth  and  glory  and  renoAvn  would  she, 
even  if  it  were  within  her  power,  depart  from  "  that  state  of  life 
into  which  it  had -pleased  God  to  call  her."  It  was  lovely  to 
be  a  woman.  She  knew  so  many  brave,  patient,  noble  ones. 
And  her  mind  wandered  to  friends  far  away,  and,  dwelling 
affectionately  upon  their  sweet  and  gracious  womanhood,  she 
forgot  the  storm  without  and  the  prim,  cheerless  room,  lighted 
by  one  kerosene-lamp,  which  stared  down  at  her  from  the  high 
wooden  mantel  like  a  sullen  eye  gloating  over  the  loveliness 
of  the  forlorn  little  maiden.     Roused  from  her  brief  revery  by 

"  A  wind  that  shrieked  to  the  window-pane, 
A  wind  in  the  chimney  moaning," 

she  rose  and  slowly  paced  up  and  down  the  room.  The  coral- 
branches  on  the  whatnot,  the  grim  mahogany  skeleton  that 
haunted  a  shadowy  corner,  seemed  to  beckon  with  their  white 
ghostly  arms.  From  the  queer  paintings  on  the  walls,  the 
beady  eyes  of  shepherdesses  with  brick-red  feverish  cheeks 
watched  her  fixedly.  "Did  anybody  ever  really  enjoy  life 
here  ?  "  she  wondered.  One  might  drag  out  a  weary  exist- 
ence in  such  a  place,  but  one  could  not  live.  Ah,  no !  the 
joy  of  living  is  far  removed  from  this  desolation.  Thus  in 
the  naughty  impatience  of  youth  did  Miss  Laura  Leigh  Doane 


1 8  ONE     SUMMER. 

dare  to  heap  all  manner  of  abuse  upon  good  old  Mother 
Jackson's  "  best  parlor/'  where  were  arrayed  her  most  ven- 
erated Penates,  cherished  objects  handed  down  from  past 
generations  or  gathered  together  through  the  long  years  of 
her  monotonous  life,  and  always  sacredly  guarded  from  the 
approach  of  the  profanum  vulgus.  The  ornaments,  if  one 
may  be  permitted  to  use  so  frivolous  a  term  in  regard  to  the 
smaller  relics,  were  taken  up  tenderly,  lifted  with  rare,  when 
the  momentous  event  of  a  yearly  tea-party  rendered  sweep- 
ing and  dusting  imperative  ;  the  more  massive  treasures  were 
moved  but  slightly,  and  by  the  priestess's  own  hands,  and 
then  gently  pushed  back  upon  the  identical  spots  in  the 
carpet  where  she  herself  had  first  placed  them  in  admiring 
awe  half  a  century  before.  Dear  old  lady,  who  closed  her 
eyes  peacefully  and  was  gathered  to  her  fathers,  little  dream- 
ing that  erelong  the  sacred  precincts  of  her  "  best  room " 
would  be  invaded  by  this  contemptuous  young  thing ! 

"If  I  could  only  have  a  grand  incantation-scene,  and 
conjure  up  the  departed  widow's  wraith,"  the  girl  thought 
wickedly,  "  how  I  should  revel  in  giving  her  a  few  modern 
ideas  in  regard  to  beautifying  her  homestead!  Even  a  ghost 
would  be  a  relief  to  my  feelings."  And  with  a  despairing 
sigh  she  drew  from  her  pocket  a  letter  Avhicli  she  had  read 
and  reread  many  times  since  it  had  arrived  late  that  day, 
and  which  at  each  perusal  conveyed  fresh  aggravation  to 
Miss  Doane's  perturbed  spirit. 

,  July  2.  18—. 

My  dear  Leigh,  —  Sorry  to  say  that  some  business  complica- 
tions have  just  turned  up  which  may  detain  me  here  three  weeks. 


ONE     SUMMER.  19 

and  possibly  longer.  Bessie  thought  at  first  she  would  join  you 
immediately,  but  dreads  the  long  journey  with  nurse  and  baby,  and 
so  concludes  to  wait  forme  to  pilot  her  through.  You  must  there- 
fore possess  your  soul  in  patience,  and  do  try  some  of  your  winning 
ways  on  the  austere  Phipps,  that  the  household  wheels  may  run 
smoothly  before  our  advent  ;  and  above  all,  impress  upon  the  worthy 
spinster's  mind  the  virtue,  nay,  the  necessity  of  moderately  late 
breakfasts.  My  six-o'clock  penance  the  morning  I  was  there  still 
lingers  in  my  shuddering  memory.  1  was  not  prepared  to  mortify 
the  flesh  so  cruelly.  Triumph  over  this  abuse,  my  child,  and  you 
will  receive  my  tearful  blessing,  and  also  the  reward  of  an  approv- 
ing conscience,  having  overthrown  one  evil  in  this  naughty  world. 

The  box  of  books  I  have  forwarded  to-day  at  Bessie's  suggestion. 
She  declares  you  would  be  a  miserable  girl  without  your  German 
and  the  rest  of  your  hobbies.  I  saw  some  pamphlets  down  town 
this  morning,  —  "  Alone  "  and  "A  Waif"  and  "Forlorn"  and 
"  The  Wanderer,"  — and  1  ordered  half  a  dozen  to  be  sent  up  to 
the  house,  the  titles  were  so  touching  and  so  suggestive  of  your 
situation  ;  so  if  you  find  them  you  will  know  whom  to  thank,  but 
it  is  possible  Bessie  has  scornfully  rejected  my  humble  contribu- 
tion to  your  comfort.  Do  not  be  discouraged  if  the  box  puts  in  a 
tardy  appearance  in  those  remote  wilds.  Somehow  I  feel  con- 
science-stricken that  I  left  you  in  the  forsaken  old  place ;  but  how 
could  I  deny  my  wilful  sister  when  she  insisted,  not  without  reason, 
upon  going  down  with  me,  "to  make  things  comfortable  for  Bes- 
sie "  ?  I  cannot  help  reproaching  myself  that  I  did  not  bring  you 
back  ;  still  you  are  safe  enough,  after  all,  Leigh.  Dragon  Phipps 
would  be  a  host  in  herself  in  case  of  anybody  daring  to  "  molest  her 
ancient  solitary  reign,"  and  I  would  trust  that  dear  little  head  of 
yours  the  world  over. 

By  the   way,  Harry   Blake  tells  me  that  our  old  chum  Philip 


20  ONE     SUMMER. 

Ogclen  is  straying  about  somewhere  in  your  vicinity  in  search  of 
health  and  quiet.  Something  has  given  out,  —  eyes,  I  believe. 
Perhaps  you  may  stumble  against  him  somewhere.  I  really  wish 
you  might  meet  him.  He  would  make  it  more  agreeable  for  you 
till  we  can  get  down,  which  you  may  be  very  sure  will  be  just  so  soon 
as  I  can  arrange  matters.  Ogden  is  exactly  the  style  of  man  you 
like.  If  I  can  learn  his  retreat,  and  he  is  sufficiently  near,  I  will 
drop  him  a  line  and  tell  him  to  call  and  pay  his  respects  to  the 
second-best  little  woman  in  the  world,  who  is  in  a  woful  plight 
just  now,  thanks  to  the  stupidity  of  her  affectionate  brother, 

Tom. 

Scrawled  languidly  in  pencil  beneath  Mr.  Tom  Otis's  dash- 
ing chirograpliy  Mas 

Is  it  not  too  ridiculous,  you  poor  dear,  for  you  to  be  left  all 
alone  in  that  horrid  place  ?  I  do  not  know  whether  to  laugh  or  to 
cry,  and  Tom  feels  really  dejected,  though  he  puts  on  mannish  airs, 
of  course,  and  talks  about  inexorable  fate,  and  says  that  you  are 
equal  to  any  emergency,  and,  moreover,  that  nothing  so  startling 
and  unexpected  as  an  emergency  ever  did  or  ever  will  happen  in 
Edgecomb.  But  do  be  careful  about  fastening  the  doors  and  win- 
dows. There  might  be  stragglers  even  in  that  innocent  village,  I 
suppose.  And  air  our  rooms  from  morning  till  night  so  the  sweet 
sunshine  will  conquer  the  mouldiness.  My  baby  must  not  inhale 
the  breath  of  past  ages.  I  know  you  have  everything  ready  for  us 
even  now,  dear,  so  there's  no  more  unpacking  and  arranging 
to  occupy  you,  unfortunately  ;  but  Tom  says  the  place  is  very 
beautiful,  which  is  the  only  consolation  I  have  in  thinking  of  you. 
You  will  at  least  have  something  to  look  at,  and  three  weeks  will 
come  to  an  end  some  time.     But,  O  dear,  it's  so  perfectly  absurd 


ONE     SUMMER.  21 

for  you  to  be  there  alone  !     I  almost  wish  we  had  decided  to  stay 
at  home  all  summer. 

I  '11  write  more  when  I  feel  a  little  stronger.     Tom  stands  over 
me  like  an  ogre  and  threatens  to  take  away  my  pencil. 

Very  lovingly, 

Bessie. 

With  a  comical  look  of  resignation  the  girl  replaced  the 
letter  in  its  envelope.  The  situation  was  unpleasant,  yet  after 
all  it  might  have  been  worse.  The  persecutions  of  the  early 
Christians  had  unquestionably  been  less  endurable,  she  thought 
smilingly ;  and  then  for  nearer  examples  there  was  poor  Rob- 
inson Crusoe,  and  that  unfortunate  young  woman  of  Charles 
Reade's,  whom  the  eccentric  novelist  deposits  upon  a  lonely 
island  with  a  transcendental  impossible  lover  for  her  only  com- 
panion. Phipps  was  a  priceless  boon  compared  with  him. 
Three  weeks,  —  only  three  little  weeks,  —  not  such  an  inter- 
minable time  as  it  had  seemed  in  her  first  disappointment  when 
the  stage-coach  had  lumbered  along  and  brought  the  letter  in- 
stead of  her  dear  ones.  And  Bessie  was  right.  The  place  was 
very  beautiful.  She  would  indeed  have  something  to  look  at. 
Edgecomb  was  full  of  languid  stately  beauty,  and  rich  with 
memories  of  days  gone  by,  before  "  the  vicissitudes  of  change- 
ful time "  had  swept  away  its  commerce  and  its  wealth,  the 
throbbing  life  from  its  busy  marts  and  crowded  wharves.  It 
had  a  history.  It  was  not  always  so  silent  and  so  staid.  The 
city-bred  girl,  with  her  quick  intuitions,  had  breathed  in  the 
story  told  by  the  few  grand  old  residences,  with  their  rows  of 
superb  and  ancient  elms,  half  unconsciously,  as  she  had  in- 
haled the  sweetness  of  the  new-mown  hay,  the  heavy  fragrance 


22  ONE     SUMMER. 

of  the  rich  ripe  strawberries  in  the  fields  near  by,  and  the 
delicious  saltness  brought  by  the  evening  breeze  from  the  not 
far  distant  sea.  Even  in  the  confusion  of  unpacking  huge 
boxes,  arranging  their  contents,  and  making  sagacious  little 
plans  for  the  comfort  of  the  invalid,  Edgecomb's  quiet  loveli- 
ness had  spoken  to  her  deeply  appreciative  nature  in  the  tender 
language  of  a  benediction.     The  place  was  perfect  in  peace. 

She  would  be  an  ingrate  to  rebel  against  her  fate  when  she 
could  wander  about  at  her  own  sweet  will,  walk  on  that  long 
open  bridge  at  sunset,  take  a  book  to  the  summit  of  one  of 
those  pretty  hills,  and  read  or  idly  glance  down  on  the  silent 
river  widening  to  the  bay.  Why,  the  prospect  positively  be- 
gan to  grow  inviting.  Certainly  it  was  an  unprecedented  state 
of  affairs.  No  one  ever  heard  of  a  girl  left  entirely  to  her 
own  devices  in  just  this  way.  It  was  all  strange.  Odd  that 
Tom  had  heard  of  the  house  and  of  its  one  inmate,  and  that 
his  letters  had  prevailed  upon  her  to  move  out  of  her  accus- 
tomed grooves  sufficiently  to  agree  to  take  them  for  the  sum- 
mer. Such  a  big  cjueer  old  house,  and  two  such  very  queer 
old  women  had  lived  in  it  by  themselves  so  long.  The 
widow  was  a  kind  soul  to  reward  her  faithful  Phipps  —  who 
in  the  good  country-fashion  had  ministered  to  her  as  a  sister 
rather  than  as  a  servant  —  by  leaving  her  the  old  homestead, 
that  she,  like  her  mistress  and  friend,  might  die  where  she 
had  lived.  "  Two  women  shall  be  grinding  at  the  mill ;  the 
one  shall  be  taken,  the  other  left."  How  strange  the  world 
was !  Strangest  of  all,  it  seemed  to  her  just  then  that  she, 
Laura  Leigh  Doaue,  should  be  where  she  was,  wondering  how 
many  cups  of  tea  those  two  boon  companions  had  drunk  to- 


ONE     SUMMER.  23 

gether.  Two  apiece,  regularly,  three  times  a  day,  not  count- 
ing extras.  That  made  twelve  each  day.  Eighty-four  a  week. 
Three  hundred  and  thirty-six  a  month.  Twelve  times  three 
hundred  and  thirty-six?  —  Here  she  was  obliged  to  abandon 
mental  calculations,  and  resort  to  a  pencil  and  the  corner  of 
an  envelope. —  Four  thousand  and  thirty-two  in  a  year  !  And 
how  many  years  ?  She  dared  not  estimate.  Miss  Phipps's 
appearance  would  indicate  a  century  or  two.  But  how  de- 
lightful to  be  in  a  house  where  for  forty,  fifty  years  at  the 
very  least,  two  lonely  women  had,  amid  the  mildest  of  gossip- 
ings,  solemnly  swallowed  every  twelvemonth  four  thousand 
and  thirty-two  cups  of  tea  all  scalding  hot  and  superlatively 
strong  !  It  was  charming  —  unique,  and  —  the  lamp  sput- 
tered and  the  rain  beat  against  the  panes.  Again  she  was 
suddenly  recalled  to  herself.  Ah,  yes  !  everything  in  the  world 
was  enjoyable  except  that  dismal  room.  Three  weeks  in  Edge- 
comb  at  large,  with  its  wealth  of  beautiful  hills  and  trees  and 
waters  and  invigorating  salt  breezes,  was  one  thing  ;  one  even- 
ing in  that  room,  another,  altogether  different  and  rapidly  grow- 
ing insupportable.  She  heard  a  step  on  the  plank  sidewalk. 
She  looked  out,  could  see  nothing,  but  listened  to  the  heavy 
tramp  coming  nearer  and  nearer.  Tramp  —  tramp  —  the  man 
had  passed  the  window.  He  had  been  somewhere,  was  going 
somewhere.  Circumstances  had  not  conspired  to  imprison 
him  in  an  apartment  rendered  hideous  and  sepulchral  by  a 
certain  honest  but  mistaken  widow  now  defunct.  Thrice- 
happy  man  ! 

"  Xo  doubt  men  are  blessed  in  some  respects  beyond  their 
deserts,"  she  said  to  herself,  petulantly.     The  intricacies  of 


24  ONE     SUMMER. 

politics  were  as  Hebrew  to  her ;  she  experienced  no  irresisti- 
ble longing  to  be  an  independent  voter,  no  mysterious  mag- 
netic, drawing  to  the  rostrum;  but  at  that  moment,  which 
was,  unknown  to  her,  a  critical  one  in  her  career,  she  did 
thoroughly  covet  the  masculine  privilege  of  defying  storms 
without  also  defying  the  proprieties,  and  for  the  second  time 
that  evening  came  the  absurd  little  wish  to  be  a  man  for  only 
a  wee  half-hour. 

What  would  the  storm  and  darkness  be  to  her  then  ? 
Trifling  annoyances  merely,  not  insurmountable  obstacles  as 
at  present.  So  easy  to  pull  on  a  heavy  overcoat,  draw  a  soft 
hat  Avell  down  on  the  head,  grasp  an  umbrella  with  one 
muscular  hand,  thrust  the  other  in  a  wTarm  pocket,  and,  with 
no  petticoats  fluttering  in  the  wind  and  impeding  progress, 
carelessly  stalk  off. 

The  fascinating  picture  suggested  a  certain  possibility. 
Why  should  she  not  go  out  if  she  wished  ?  Why  might  she 
not  go  down  for  the  novel  she  had  noticed  that  morning  in 
the  window  of  the  little  bookstore  where  she  had  been  on  some 
trifling  errand?  She  had  wondered  then  how  anything  so  new 
had  strayed  there,  and  would  have  taken  the  book,  but  needed 
no  entertainment  with  the  immediate  prospect  of  seeing  Bessie 
and  baby  and  Tom.  But  why  should  she  not  have  it  now  ? 
She  looked  at  her  watch. 

"Not  yet  half  past  eight.  I'm  not  afraid,"  she  thought. 
"  Nothing  could  harm  me  here,  and  nobody  knows  me.  It 
will  not  take  two  minutes  to  slip  into  my  waterproof  and  rub- 
bers. I  know  I  shall  not  take  cold.  It  will  be  a  new 
sensation  to  be  out  alone  in  the  evening,  and  in  such  a  tre- 


ONE     SUMMER. 


25 


mendous  storm  too.  If  I  meet  with  an  adventure,  all  the 
better.  Why,  it's  a  real  Walpurgis  Night,  I  shall  feel 
like  a  witch!" 

And  she  looked  like  one  as 
she  started  up  with  her  new 
resolution  shining  out  through 
mischievous  eyes  and  oddly 
compressed  lips.* 

She  was  young.  She  had 
health,  inexhaustible  spirits, 
and  energy.  Her  own  ideas 
were  apt  to  interest  her.  She 
was  in  that  state  of  idleness 
in  which  Satan  is  proverbially 
said  to  be  devising  "  mischief 
still"  to  cause  our  downfall. 
And  she  wanted  the  book. 
These  are  the  reasons,  if  rea- 
sons they  be,  why  shortly 
after  a  figure,  armed  with  an 
umbrella  and  well  wrapped  in 
a  waterproof,  the  hood  drawn 
up  snugly  over  a  close  little 
turban,  ran  lightly  down  the 
broad  old-fashioned  staircase, 

with  a  gay  disregard  for  the  possible  consternation  of  the  wor- 
thy Phipps,  should  she  know  of  the  wild  and  wayward  exploit, 
and  gently  opening  the  massive  door,  sprang  with  a  sense  of 
rare  exhilaration  and  delight  out  into  the  wind  and  rain. 


CHAPTEE    II. 

"  'Tis  not  so  deep  as  a  well  nor  so  wide  as  a  church-door  ;  hut  't  is  enough, 
't  will  serve."  —  Romeo  and  Juliet. 


OKBIDDEN  fruit  being  ever  to  our  fallen  natures 
the  richest  and  ripest  and  sweetest,  Miss  Doane 
experienced  vivid  satisfaction  in  executing  her  fan- 
tastic scheme.  She  hilariously  floundered  off  and 
on  the  narrow  sidewalk,  always  insecure,  and  on  this  mem- 
orable night  rendered  unusually  treacherous  by  occasional 
streams  of  running  water  and  deep  hiddeu  pools,  she  joyously 
welcomed  the  cold  rain-drops  as  they  beat  2>ersistently  against 
her  cheek,  and  was  intoxicated  with  the  pleasure  of  struggling 
with  all  her  might  against  the  constant  efforts  of  the  wind  to 
seize  and  whirl  away  her  umbrella,  —  efforts  which  she  inter- 
preted as  the  playful  frolics  of  a  friend,  so  jovial  was  her 
mood.     She  skipped  along,  stumbled  along,  blew  along.     The 


ONE     SUMMER.  27 

mode  of  progression  signified  nothing  to  her.  She  only  felt 
that  the  storm  was  superb,  that  the  great  elms  Avhose  swaying 
branches  she  barely  could  distinguish  in  the  darkness  were 
sobbing  and  sighing  around  her,  that  a  mighty  wind  was  al- 
most lifting  her  bodily  from  the  ground.  She  pitied  girls, 
her  former  self  among  them,  who  had  only  ventured  forth  in 
decorous  drizzles,  and  who  knew  nothing  of  the  rapturous  ex- 
citement of  a  mad,  wild,  tempestuous  night  like  this. 

She  reached  the  bookstore,  bought  the  coveted  pamphlet. 
The  man  stared  as  he  passed  the  book  to  her.  Visions  of  tall 
girls  with  glowing  cheeks  and  sparkling  eyes  and  numerous 
streamlets  trickling  from  their  apparel,  half-breathlessly  de- 
manding light  literature  at  nearly  nine  o'clock  on  the  stormiest 
of  evenings,  were  not  frequent  in  his  limited  experience,  and 
"eyes  were  made  for  seeing/''  The  gaze  of  the  grim  librarian 
did  not  disconcert  Miss  Doane  in  the  least.  She  grasped  her 
novel  and  umbrella  and  passed  out  swiftly  into  the  flood  like 
a  nineteenth-century  Undine. 

The  buoyancy,  the  champagne-like  frothiness  of  spirit  still 
electrified  her ;  but  alas,  champagne  loses  its  sparkle,  and  for- 
bidden fruit  must  some  time  turn  to  dust  and  ashes  on  the 
lips  that  taste  it !  As  she  drew  near  an  exposed  corner,  it 
seemed  as  if  all  the  winds  of  heaven  had  broken  loose,  were 
rioting  madly,  and  seeking  whom  they  might  devour.  Twice 
they  beat  her  back  in  spite  of  her  struggles,  twitched  violently 
at  the  closely  fastened  waterproof,  and  put  a  fiendish  desire  to 
soar  away  over  the  dusky  tree-tops  into  her  hitherto  trust- 
worthy umbrella.  She  retreated  a  step  or  two,  stopped  a  mo- 
ment to  regain  her  breath,  then,  taking  advantage  of  a  partial 


28  ONE     SUMMER. 

cessation  of  hostilities,  gathered  herself  together  for  a  final 
mighty  effort,  and,  with  head  bent  forward,  umbrella  tightly 
clinched  in  both  hands  and  held  at  an  augle  of  about  thirty 
degrees,  made  a  grand  spring,  charged  valiantly  through  the 
warring  elements,  triumphantly  turned  the  corner,  and,  with 
singular  precision  of  aim,  plunged  the  apex  of  her  umbrella 
directly  into  the  face  and  eyes  of  an  unwary  pedestrian  who 
was  approaching  from  the  opposite  direction. 

Miss  Doane's  momentum  was  great,  —  great  also  the  sever- 
ity of  the  blow  she  had  unwittingly  administered,  and  great 
the  surprise  and  dismay  she  experienced  at  finding  her  freedom 
so  suddenly  brought  to  an  inglorious  end.  In  the  confusion 
caused  by  the  abrupt  fall  of  her  spirits  from  extreme  excite- 
ment and  elation  to  real  regret,  mingled  with  a  ludicrous  sense 
of  the  absurdity  of  her  unprovoked  assault,  the  "  I  beg  your 
pardon,  sir,"  which  sprang  from  her  heart  found  no  utterance. 
After  a  truly  feminine  fashion,  she  ran  away  frantically  a  few 
feet,  then  stood  still  and  speechless  at  a  short  distance  from 
her  victim. 

Who  was  he?  What  was  he?  If  it  were  only  light 
enough  for  her  to  judge  by  his  looks  whether  she  had  better 
offer  him  assistance ;  for  an  exclamation  of  pain  at  the  mo- 
ment of  the  umbrella's  direful  deed,  and  now  the  stranger's 
motionless  attitude,  gave  sufficient  evidence  that  he  was  suf- 
fering. After  all,  whatever  he  might  be,  whether  fierce  des- 
perado —  a  growth  not  indigenous  to  Edgecomb  soil,  she  knew 
we]]  —  or  innocent  ploughboy,  which  was  much  more  likely 
to  be  the  case,  in  ordinary  kindness  she  could  not  leave  him 
without  a  word  of  sympathy.     Prudential  motives  for  declin- 


ONE     SUMMER.  29 

ing  to  enter  into  conversation  with  a  stranger  in  ntter  darkness 
and  the  instinctive  womanly  desire  to  be  of  service  if  she  were 
needed,  together  with  unusual  difficulty  in  knowing  what  to 
say,  struggled  for  mastery  in  the  girl's  mind  during  the  agitat- 
ing minute  which  followed  the  accident.  A  half-suppressed 
groan  from  the  subject  of  her  reflections  made  her  ashamed  of 
her  silly  scruples,  and  she  moved  towards  him  with  an  expres- 
sion of  sincerest  regret  upon  her  lips.  Her  remark  was  how- 
ever unspoken,  for  the  stranger  at  the  same  moment  advanced, 
and  in  a  gentlemanly  voice  said,  — 

"  My  good  woman  —  " 

"  Good  woman,  indeed  !  "  she  thought  indignantly  and  with 
a  sudden  revulsion  of  feeling,  her  sympathies  giving  way  to 
wounded  pride  of  station.  "  Does  he  take  me  for  a  milk- 
maid ?  "  Then,  common-sense  coming  to  the  rescue  :  "  Well, 
am  I  not  a  good  woman  ?  Naughtier  than  usual  to-night,  no 
doubt,"  with  sundry  misgivings  as  to  the  strict  propriety  of 
her  conduct,  "  but  a  good  woman,  nevertheless.  Certainly 
there  is  nothing  offensive  in  the  words  in  themselves.  No- 
body ever  happened  to  call  me  so  before,  and  there  is  a  good 
deal  in  association ;  but  the  poor  man  is  in  a  dilemma,  too ; 
how  in  the  world  is  he  to  know  in  what  manner  to  address 
me  ?  » 

He  evidently  was  somewhat  embarrassed.  He  had  hesitated 
after  first  using  the  obnoxious  phrase  ;  but,  reasoning  that 
the  "  Madam  "  which  would  be  his  involuntary  mode  of  ad- 
dress under  other  circumstances  would  be  wholly  out  of  place 
applied  to  a  servant  or  to  any  woman  out  unprotected  on  such 
a  furious  night,  he  went  on  in  a  kind,  reassuring  tone,  — 


3o 


ONE     SUMMER. 


"  Do  not  be  alarmed.  Let  me  speak  with  you  a  mo- 
ment/-' 

This  seemed  to  be  an  invitation  to  approach,  as  the  violence 
of  the  storm  rendered  conversation  at  her  present  distance 
from  him  a  difficult  matter.  There  was  in  his  manner  a  quiet 
dignity,  —  almost  a  command,  —  to  which  she  found  herself 
at  once  responding. 

"  May  I  trouble  you  to  assist  me  ?  "  he  asked  as  she  drew 
near,  and  saw  that  he  was  trying  to  tie  his  handkerchief  round 

his  head,  and  that  the  wind 
and  the  necessity  of  hold- 
ing his  hat  in  his  hand 
made  this  ordinarily  sim- 
ple operation  a  difficult 
one.  Without  a  word,  she 
mechanically  put  her  um- 
brella into  his  outstretched 
hand,  took  the  fluttering 
handkerchief,  folded  it 
compactly,  and  tied  it 
firmly,  in  accordance  with 
his  direction,  "  Round 
both  eyes,  if  you  please, 
—  not  too  tight/''  then 
stood  as  if  in  a  dream,  awaiting  further  orders  from  this  un- 
known and  extraordinary  individual.  Recovering  herself,  she 
ventured  to  say,  — 

"  Are  you  much  hurt,  sir  ?     I  am  very  sorry/'' 

"  Not  seriously,  I  hope,  although  I  am  in  some  pain,"  he 


ONE     SUMMER.  3 1 

replied.  "  However,  it  is  my  own  fault.  With  such  mean 
and  miserable  eyes,  I  ought  not  to  have  come  out  to-night/' 
he  continued,  addressing  himself  rather  than  the  supposed 
young  rustic. 

"  Singular  coincidence  !     Neither  ought  I"  she  thought. 

«  My  good  girl/'  —  an  indefinable  something  had  told  him 
that  it  was  a  young  girl  whose  gentle,  dexterous  hands  had 
touched  his  hair,  — "  do  you  think  you  could  —  "  He 
paused,  then  with  some  reluctance  said :  "  The  fact  is,  I 
hardly  know  what  I  'd  better  do.  Your  umbrella  has  nearly 
put  out  my  eye,  —  has  injured  it-  enough  to  make  it  exceed- 
ingly painful,  at  all  events,  —  which  is  not  in  the  slightest 
degree  your  fault,  of  course/'  he  added,  courteously.  "  I  am 
sorry  to  ask  so  much  of  any  woman,  particularly  of  a  stranger  ; 
but  could  you  be  my  guide  home?  Would  you  object  to 
walking  to  my  boarding-place  with  me  ?  " 

No  untutored  peasant-maiden  could  have  faltered,  in  reply 
to  this  somewhat  astounding  proposal,  a  more  bashful  "  I 
d-o-n'-t  k-n-o-w  "  than  came  faintly  from  the  lips  of  the  self- 
possessed  and  elegant  Miss  Doane. 

"  These  country  girls  are  always  shy,"  he  thought,  "  and  no 
wonder  she  is  afraid  of  me  under  the  circumstances.  Poor 
little  thing!" 

"  Then,  very  gently,  as  if  encouraging  a  frightened  child, 
he  explained :  "  Indeed,  I  would  not  trouble  you  if  I  could 
help  it.  My  eyes  have  been  almost  powerless  of  late,  and  I 
hardly  dare  strain  them  by  trying  to  grope  my  way  back  when 
one  eye  is  so  inflamed  and  irritated  by  that  hostile  weapon  of 
yours  that  the  other  is  suffering  in  sympathy.     Perhaps  some 


32  ONE     SUMMER. 

man  might  be  induced  to  go.  The  difficulty  would  be  in  find- 
ing anybody.  The  shops  must  be  closed  at  this  hour."  Then, 
with  the  utmost  courtesy :  "  You  need  not  be  afraid.  My 
name  is  Ogden.  I  am  staying  out  at  the  Holbrook  Farm. 
Pardon  me  if  I  ask  you  once  more  if  you  will  be  good  enough 
to  walk  there  with  me.  It  is  possible  for  me  to  go  alone,  of 
course;  but  difficult,  and  likely  to  be  worse  for  me  in  the 
end  —  "  And  he  drew  a  long  breath  as  if  the  bruise  pained 
him,  and  as  if  it  wearied  him  to  make  so  careful  an  explana- 
tion for  the  benefit  of  this  extremely  taciturn  young  country 
woman. 

She  started  when  he  gave  his  name.  She  was  seized  with  a 
violent  impulse  to  seek  safety  in  flight.  "  Such  an  incredible 
state  of  things  ! "  she  thought ;  then  bravely  accepted  the  sit- 
uation, and  said  quietly,  — 

"  I  will  go  with  you,  sir." 

"  I  thank  you.  Will  you  take  my  arm  ?  I  hope  the  extra 
walk  will  not  fatigue  you  ;  yet,  if  you  dare  venture  out  at  all 
to-night  —  "  He  stopped  abruptly,  fearing  his  remark  might 
seem  rude. 

In  her  interpretation,  his  unspoken  thought  gained  tenfold 
severity. 

"  A  common,  coarse  country  girl  like  me,  who  dares  venture 
out  at  all  to-night,  cannot  be  injured  by  walking  an  additional 
mile,"  she  thought,  in  much  vexation.  "  Does  he  need  to  be 
formally  presented  to  one  by  Mrs.  Grundy,  before  he  recog- 
nizes one  as  a  lady  ?  Ought  I  to  be  labelled,  '  This  is  a  gen- 
tlewoman/ that  the  stupid  man  may  know  me  Avhen  he  sees 
me  ?  "     Then,  repenting,  "  But  the  poor  man  has  not  seen 


ONE     SUMMER.  33 

me,  and  I  have  hardly  opened  my  lips.  How  should  he 
know  ?  "  After  a  moment  she  waxed  indignant  again.  "  But 
he  ought  to  know.  He  ought  to  know  without  hearing  or 
seeing  me.     I  never  will  excuse  it  in  him,  never !  " 

Thus,  her  heart  full  of  conflicting  emotions,  pity  for  her 
silent  companion  as  a  fellow-creature  in  pain  alternating  with 
unreasoning  wrath  against  him  as  Mr.  Philip  Ogden,  who  had 
presumed  to  adopt  towards  her  a  tone  of  calm  and  dignified 
superiority,  and  who  had  not  had  the  superhuman  discern- 
ment to  recognize  her,  in  spite  of  the  obstacles,  as  his  social 
equal,  Miss  Doane  walked  by  Mr.  Ogden's  side,  inwardly 
rebellious,  outwardly  guiding  his  steps  with  praiseworthy 
meekness. 

And  he  with  that  sickening  pain  in  the  eyes  which  sends 
a  throbbing  to  the  brain  and  intense  nervous  irritability  over 
the  whole  system,  and  makes  it  difficult  for  the  gentlest  nature 
to  be  patient,  thought  but  little  of  her  after  the  brief  conver- 
sation recorded.  She  was  the  means  ;  the  speediest  possible 
arrival  at  Farmer  Holbrookes,  the  end  he  had  in  view.  So 
through  the  storm  these  two,  whom  Fate  had  so  curiously 
thrown  together,  pursued  their  way. 

She  knew  perfectly  where  the  farm  was.  She  had  seen  it 
on  the  main  road  as  she  entered  the  village.  From  her  lofty 
pinnacle  on  top  of  the  stage,  she  had  looked  admiringly  upon 
its  soft  undulating  fields,  thrifty  orchards,  snug  cottage,  and 
great  barns  ;  and  Tom  had  inquired  the  owner's  name  of  the 
stage-driver,  who  had  responded  with  the  eager  loquacity  pe- 
culiar to  the  genus.  The  place  was  nearly  a  mile  from  Miss 
Phipps's  mansion,  for  whose  friendly  shelter  she  now  sighed, 


34  ONE     SUMMER. 

deeming  even  that  much-derided  parlor  an  unattainable  bower 
of  bliss. 

Once  the  idea  of  announcing  herself  to  this  cool  and  self- 
sufficient  gentleman,  of  witnessing  his  inevitable  embarrass- 
ment should  she  mention  her  name  and  Tom's,  and  of  so 
revenging  herself,  occurred  to  her.  But  she  recalled  the  shade 
of  authority  which  she  had  observed  in  his  manner,  in  spite 
of  the  extreme  gentleness  of  his  tone,  and  also  the  wonder  he 
had  implied,  that  any  decent  country  girl  should  brave  the 
severity  of  so  stormy  a  night,  and  unseen  in  the  darkness  she 
blushed  crimson  with  mortification,  and  bitterly  lamented  her 
senseless  whim  and  its  consecpiences.  She  could  not. declare 
herself.  She  had  been  guilty  of  an  act,  indiscreet,  according 
to  this  man's  code,  in  the  ignorant  village  girl  for  whom  he 
had  mistaken  her.  Should  she  then  stop  by  the  roadside, 
withdraw  her  hand  from  his  arm,  make  a  profound  courtesy 
before  his  bandaged,  unseeing  eyes,  and,  after  the  fashion  of 
the  sultan  in  the  Arabian  Nights,  throw  off  her  disguise,  and 
exclaim  in  a  melodramatic  manner,  "  Pause,  vain  man  !  Be- 
hold in  me,  Miss  Laura  Doane,  a  person  not  entirely  unknown 
in  the  polite  circles  in  which  you  move,  and  of  whom,  doubt- 
less, you  have  frequently  heard  "  ? 

No  !  she  was  in  a  false  position,  but  she  had  placed  herself 
there  by  her  own  folly,  and  there  must  she  remain  till  that 
fatal  promenade  Avas  over. 

After  leaving  the  village,  sideAvalks  ceased  and  their  path 
lay  through  the  muddy  road.  No  sound  was  heard  but  the 
voice  of  the  storm,  until  Mr.  Ogden,  who  had  apparently  been 
forgetting  his  companion's  very  existence,  said  kindly,  — 


ONE     SUMMER.  35 

"  I  hope  I  am  not  taking  you  too  far  out  of  your  way. 
This  road  is  hard  travelling  in  wet  weather.-" 

"  It  is  not  too  far/'  she  answered  in  a  low  voice,  and  with 
a  twofold  meaning  of  which  he  was  unconscious.  She  was 
actually  taking  grim  delight  in  her  penance.  She  felt  that 
the  tiresome  walk  was  no  more  than  she  deserved  to  endure. 
To  his  mild  conversational  effort  she  responded  by  a  brief  in- 
quiry as  to  the  condition  of  his  eyes. 

"Eyes  are  obstinate  things  when  hurt/''  he  said  pleasantly. 
"  Probably  I  suffer  more  from  this  evening's  accident  on  ac- 
count of  their  previous  weakness.  There 's  a  wretched  fatality 
about  sensitive  eyes.  Everything  is  certain  to  get  into  them, 
—  cinders  in  the  cars  and  umbrellas  dark  nights,  for  instance. 
But  I  assure  you  they  are  infinitely  less  painful  than  they 
would  have  been  had  I  been  forced  to  expose  them  to  the 
wind  and  rain  and  grope  my  way  alone.  It  was  the  strain  of 
trying  to  keep  this  invalid  fellow  on  the  alert  which  I  dreaded, 
and  so  I  ventured  to  trouble  you.  I  am  very  grateful  to  you 
for  the  relief  your  presence  affords  me." 

She  knew  that  he  must  be  still  suffering.  Evidently  he 
would  not  permit  the  rude  girl  who  had  caused  the  injury  to 
perceive  how  much  harm  she  had  done.  That  was  generous 
in  him  ;  yet  he  spoiled  it  all  by  that  indefinable  tone  in  his 
voice.  It  was  not  condescension,  —  nothing  so  disagreeable 
as  that.  It  was  more  like  the  over-punctiliousness  with  which 
one  remembers  to  thank  an  inferior  who  does  one  a  service. 
It  was  too  careful,  too  formal  for  equality,  and  it  piqued  her. 
She  did  not  therefore  feel  amiable,  and  she  made  no  reply  to 
his  acknowledgment. 


36  ONE     SUMMER. 

They  walked  on  in  silence,  and  soon  she  saw  a  light  in  a 
house  which  they  were  approaching.  It  was  the  Holbrook 
cottage.  All  the  lights  were  out  except  this  one  at  a  chamber 
window.  His  room,  she  thought,  as  she  noticed  a  porcelain 
shade  softening  the  glare. 

They  reached  the  door  of  the  cottage.  She  stopped.  He 
quickly  pushed  up  the  bandage.  "  Are  we  here  at  last  ? " 
Then  as  he  glanced  up  to  his  window,  he  gave  a  slight  excla- 
mation of  pain.  "  I  beg  your  pardon/''  he  said,  "  the  lid 
seems  quite  helpless,  and  an  acute  pain  took  me  unawares 
as  I  looked  up."  She  turned  to  go.  There  was  a  slight 
awkward  silence;  then  her  warm  heart  conquered  her  pride 
and  pique. 

"  I  am  very  sorry.  I  hope  it  will  be  better  soon."  She 
spoke  in  a  low,  constrained  voice.     He  said,  — 

"Thank  you.  I  imagine  it  will  amount  to  very  little." 
Then  rapidly,  as  if  fearing  interruption,  "  You  have  done  me 
a  great  service.  Do  not  think  I  offer  this  in  payment,  only 
perhaps  you  know  of  a  book  or  "  —  apparently  doubting  the 
intellectual  aspirations  of  his  guide  —  "a  little  ribbon  you 
may  fancy,  and  if  you  will  buy  it  in  remembrance  of  my  grati- 
tude, you  will  make  me  still  more  indebted  to  you."  Put- 
ting her  umbrella  in  her  hand  and  with  it  a  bank-note,  with  a 
hasty  good-night,  he  opened  the  door,  passed  in,  and  closed  it 
again  before  the  girl  had  recovered  from  the  overpowering 
amazed  indignation  into  which  the  last  and  most  unexpected 
turn  of  affairs  had  plunged  her. 

Money  !  Had  he  dared  give  her  money  ?  Insulting  !  In- 
credible !     She  could  have  screamed  with  rage  and  humilia- 


ONE     SUMMER.  37 

tion.  She  never  once  thought  of  dropping  it  where  she  stood. 
After  the  first  paroxysm  of  hurt  and  angry  pride  had  passed, 
she  held  it  crushed  feverishly  in  her  hand,  and  accepting  it  as 
the  most  cruel  discipline  she  had  yet  undergone,  the  crowning 
torture  of  this  wretched  evening,  but  hi  no  way  to  be  escaped 
from,  she  turned  from  the  hateful  spot  and  started  towards 
the  village. 

Her  walk  was  sadly  fatiguing.  The  excitement  which  had 
before  sustained  her  and  enabled  her  to  struggle  gayly  with 
the  storm  was  succeeded  by  extreme  depression.  The  reaction 
had  come.  The  rumbling  of  distant  thunder  warned  her  to 
hasten.  The  condition  of  the  road,  her  weary  feet  and 
drenched  clothing,  made  her  progress  slow.  At  last,  as  a 
vivid  flash  of  lightning,  accompanied  by  an  ominous  peal, 
illumined  her  path,  she  reached  the  house.  The  door  was 
unfastened.  The  lamp  still  stood  upon  the  parlor  mantel. 
Cold,  almost  exhausted,  enraged  with  herself,  and  bitterly 
denouncing  the  obtuseness  of  Mr.  Philip  Ogden,  she  wearily 
ascended  the  stairs  and  shut  herself  in  her  room. 

She  removed  her  wet  clothing,  put  on  a  warm  wrapper  and 
slippers,  let  down  her  hair,  and  seated  herself  in  a  low  rock- 
ing-chair for  a  resume  of  the  evening's  woes.  Her  present 
physical  comfort  began  to  influence  her  views.  Things  did 
not  look  so  utterly  disgraceful  as  when  she  was  wandering, 
forlorn  and  fatigued,  out  in  the  black  night.  Ah,  but  the 
money  !  How  it  had  burned  her  hand  all  the  way  back  ! 
She  rose  and  took  the  crumpled  bill  from  her  dressing-table. 
She  smoothed  it  out  with  scrupulous  care.  She  examined  it 
with  cynical  interest  on  both  sides.     She  turned  it  up  and 


38 


ONE     SUMMER. 


down,  laid  it  upon  her  toilet-cushion,  then  pinned  it  up  on 
the  wall,  and  studied  the  effect.  Two  dollars  Mr.  Ogden  had 
munificently  bestowed  upon  her  in  token  of  his  grateful  ap- 


preciation of  her  services.  She  looked  in  the  little  mirror 
with  a  sarcastic  smile  that  said  :  "Leigh  Donne,  you  have  not 
lived  in  vain.  You  have  turned  an  honest  penny.  You  have 
fairly  earned  two  dollars/''     "What   should   she  do  with  it  ? 


ONE     SUMMER.  39 

Keep  it  for  a  time  as  a  reminder  of  the  Valley  of  Humiliation 
through  which  she  had  passed,  and  then  drop  it  in  the  char- 
ity-box at  the  church-door  ?  Yes,  that  would  do.  She  laid 
it  in  her  writing-desk  and  sat  down  again  to  think. 

A  scene  from  one  of  Madame  d/Arblay's  novels  flashed  into 
her  head.  It  was  that  thrilling  moment  in  "  Cecilia  "  where 
the  adoring  lover  finds  himself  alone  with  his  charmer  in  a 
storm.  The  aristocratic  maiden  becomes  pallid,  imbecile,  and 
limp,  according  to  the  invariable  custom  of  the  heroine  of  the 
old-fashioned  romance,  when  the  slightest  mental  or  physical 
exertion  is  demanded  of  her.  He  is  nearly  frantic  with  excess 
of  emotion  at  actually  being  in  the  presence  of  his  adored  one, 
with  no  lady's-maid,  companion,  or  stately  duenna  to  protect 
her  from  his  timorous  advances.  The  storm  increases.  She 
trembles  with  fear.  Her  step  falters.  The  lover  observes 
this  with  exceeding  solicitude,  and  the  exigencies  of  the  case 
tempting  him  to  disregard  conventional  barriers,  the  rash  im- 
petuous youth  ventures  upon  the  unheard-of  familiarity  of 
offering  his  arm  as  a  support  to  the  gentlest  and  most  ineffi- 
cient of  her  sex.  Aware  that  the  license  of  his  conduct, 
though  palliated  by  the  unprecedented  circumstances,  was, 
nevertheless,  open  to  censure  in  its  departure  from  the  code  of 
etiquette  in  vogue  in  the  painfully  rarefied  atmosphere  of  ex- 
tremely high  life,  yet  quite  overcome  with  the  rapture  of 
having  her  finger-tips  resting  confidingly  upon  his  coat-sleeve, 
in  tones  of  subdued  ecstasy  he  exclaims,  "  Sweet,  lovely  bur- 
den, O,  why  not  thus  forever  !  " 

When  this  picture  of  the  astounding  difficulties  attending 
the  course  of  true  love  in  the  olden  time  had  first  presented 


40  ONE     SUMMER. 

itself  to  her,  it  had  been  a  source  of  great  amusement.  In- 
deed, many  novels,  dear,  no  doubt,  to  her  grandmother,  were 
wont  to  convulse  her  with  irreverent  mirth.  Could  anything 
be  funnier  than  the  stilted  phraseology  of  those  lovesick,  per- 
plexed swains,  and  the  laments  of  the  lachrymose  heroines 
who  wring  their  hands  frantically  on  all  occasions,  and  evince 
a  chronic  incapacity  for  doing  anything  of  the  least  use  to  any 
human  being?  She  had  sometimes  congratulated  herself 
upon  being  commonplace  Leigh  Doane  in  the  present  state  of 
society,  instead  of  a  Sophronia  Belinda  Araminta  Clarissa 
Mac  Ferguson  under  the  old  regime.  But  never  had  the  con- 
trast between  then  and  now,  between  the  lifeless  but  highly 
decorous  demeanor  of  the  model  girl  of  the  past  " period" 
and  the  extravagant  wilfulness  of  her  own  conduct,  struck  her 
so  forcibly.  Madame  d'Arblay's  representation  of  maidenly 
propriety,  the  "  ever-lovely  Miss  Beverly,"  had  nearly  fainted 
in  the  fiery  ordeal  of  walking  a  short  distance  with  an  es- 
teemed gentleman  friend  in  broad  daylight.  She,  oh  the  con- 
trary, a  girl  most  carefully  reared  according  to  modern  ideas, 
had  manifested  sufficient  discreditable  vigor  to  nearly  annihi- 
late an  unknown  man,  and  had  then  walked  by  his  side 
and  guided  his  steps  over  a  long,  rough  country-road,  in  in- 
tense darkness  and  a  violent  storm.  She  remembered  mild, 
timid,  clinging  Cecilia,  and  smiled.  She  thought  of  fearless, 
self-confident  Leigh,  and  groaned. 

Now  if  he  had  only  thrust  an  umbrella  into  her  eye,  how 
much  better  it  would  have  been  !  It  is  woman's  province  to 
suffer,  and  it  would  have  been  the  most  natural  thing  in  the 
world  for  her  to  meet  with  an  accident ;  quite  romantic  had 


ONE     SUMMER.  41 

she  been  obliged  to  accept  the  escort  of  an  unknown  gentle- 
man, who  would  eloquently  protest  that  he  never  could  forgive 
himself  for  his  awkwardness,,  and  who  would  prove  to  be 
Tom's  old  friend.  But  how  unnatural,  how  ridiculous,  for 
her  to  savagely  charge  at  him,  and  then  in  silence,  like  a 
bashful,  stupid  rustic,  take  the  wounded  man  to  his  destina- 
tion !  The  former  case  would  have  been  like  some  piquant 
little  adventure  in  a  book.  As  it  actually  happened,  it  was 
grotesquely  transposed,  and  all  wrong.  What  would  Bessie 
say  ?  Tom  should  never  know.  He  would  tease  her  too  un- 
mercifully. And  as  for  his  friend,  Mr.  Ogden,  whose  mental 
vision  must  be  as  blind  as  were  his  outward  eyes,  she  would 
never,  never  meet  him  if  she  could  help  herself,  and  she  would 
despise  him,  upon  principle,  all  her  life.  "My  good  girl  —  " 
Here  an  overwhelming  consciousness  of  the  utter  ludicrous- 
ness  of  the  affair  from  beginning  to  end  rushed  over  her,  and 
she  laughed  aloud.  Peal  after  peal  of  nervous  hysterical 
laughter  -burst  from  her  lips,  until  the  tears  rolled  clown  her 
cheeks.  Luckily  Miss  Phipps  was  too  remote  to  be  roused 
by  this  untimely  merriment,  or  she  would  have  risen  in  alarm, 
fearing  for  the  sanity  of  her  young  guest.  The  ebullition 
proved  a  relief.  It  carried  away  much  self-reproach  and  cha- 
grin from  the  girl's  mind.  It  left  regret  and  some  humilia- 
tion, but  also  the  more  cheerful  tendency  to  look  upon  Mr. 
Ogden's  uncalled-for  generosity  as  an  enormous  joke  rather 
than  as  the  personal  insult  she  had  been  inclined  to  consider 
it,  and  she  laid  her  head  on  her  pillow  more  happily  than  she 
would  have  deemed  possible  an  hour  before.  But  immuta- 
bility is  not  a  characteristic  of  one's  emotions  at  twenty.    Her 


42 


ONE     SUMMER. 


experience  that  evening  had  been  a  varied  one,  and  she  had 
passed  through  a  thousand  phases  of  feeling. 

Her  last  thought  as  she  closed  her  eyes  was,  "  e  Perhaps 
you  may  stumble  against  him  somewhere/  —  O  you  wise,  pro- 
phetic Tom  !  " 


CHAPTER    III. 

"  He  would  have  passed  a  pleasant  life  of  it  in  despite  of  the  Devil  and  all  his 
works,  if  his  path  had  not  been  crossed  by  a  being  that  causes  more  perplexity 
to  mortal  man  than  ghosts,  goblins,  and  the  whole  race  of  witches  put  together, 
and  that  was  —  a  woman."  — "Washington  Ieving. 

HERE  are  eyes  and  eyes.  Popular  prejudice  leans 
towards  fine  eyes  in  works  of  fiction,  but  as  a  faith- 
ful historian  this  chronicler  must  dispassionately 
state  that  Philip  Ogden's  were  not  such  as  should 
appertain  to  the  hero  of  a  love-story.  They  did  not  glare  fiercely 
from  beneath  shaggy  brows,  like  those  marvellous  deep-set 
gray  ones  of  a  certain  school  of  romance,  nor  were  they  in  the 
habit  of  assuming  a  cold  and  inscrutable  expression  to  the  world 
at  large,  and  then  "  melting  dangerously,"  whatever  that  may 
mean,  for  the  especial  delectation  of  one  favored  mortal ; 
neither  could,  they  flash,  nor  burn,  nor  frighten  people  with  a 
steady  ominous  glow,  nor,  in  short,  execute  any  feats  of  a  pyr- 
otechnic nature.  At  their  best,  viewed  in  the  friendliest  light, 
they  were  ordinary  blue  eyes,  with  a  sufficiently  sensible  and 
agreeable  expression,  in  which,  perhaps,  lurked  a  remote  sug- 
gestion that  Mr.  Ogden  might  not  need  to  have  the  point  of  a 
joke  explained  to  him.     It  may  also  be  said  that  they  were  ex- 


44  ONE     SUMMER. 

tremely  near- sighted,  and  apt  to  feel  weary  and  overworked 
unless  used  with  care.  As  they  were  not  likely  to  recover 
easily  from  violent  shocks,  it  is  evident  that  Miss  Doane's 
umbrella  made  an  injudicious  selection  of  a  victim.  In  this 
opinion  Mr.  Ogden  would  no  doubt  have  fully  concurred. 

The  fair  summer  morning  stole  into  his  room  and  found 
him  sleeping  in  serene  unconsciousness  of  coast-storms,  pug- 
nacious girls  with  umbrellas,  his  disfigured  countenance,  and 
all  sublunary  ills.  But  the  crowing  and  quacking  and  lowing, 
and  the  other  noises  whose  distant  echoes  sound  so  sweetly  in 
pastoral  poems,  and  "voices  of  men  and  voices  of  maids," 
and  more  especially  the  far-resounding  twang  of  the  mistress 
of  the  farm  mustering  her  forces,  conspired  to  rouse  him  at  an 
early  hour  from  his  blissful  ignorance.  With  the  aid  of  a 
hand-mirror  and  his  one  available  eye,  he  examined  the  puffed- 
out,  angry-looking  cheek  and  swollen,  closed  lid  which  marked 
the  ravages  of  the  destroyer. 

"  That  was  a  fell  swoop,  but  the  blow  was  admirably  aimed. 
If  you  had  struck  higher  you  would  have  put  out  my  eye ; 
lower,  you  would  have  loosened  a  few  teeth.  You  punched 
better  than  you  knew,  my  fair  Phyllis." 

He  carefully  closed  every  blind  and  drew  every  curtain, 
shutting  out  the  "jocund  day,"  whose  ever-increasing  radi- 
ance he  had  no  eyes  to  see ;  and,  like  a  boy  afraid  of  ghosts, 
who  whistles  in  the  dark  to  keep  up  his  courage,  he  hummed 
the  cheerful  and  appropriate  ditty, 

"  There  was  a  man  in  our  town, 
And  he  was  wondrous  wise  ; 
He  jumped  into  a  bramble-bush, 
And  scratched  out  both  his  eyes," 


ONE     SUMMER.  45 

as  lie  renewed  his  bandages  and  placed  a  bottle  of  arnica  — 
which  he  regarded  as  his  only  friend  —  at  a  convenient  distance 
from  the  sofa  upon  which  he  finally  threw  himself,  painfully 
aware  that  he  was  a  doomed  man  for  that  day,  and  for  how 
much  longer  he  knew  not. 

"  Time  and  arnica  make  a  powerful  combination,  and  will 
heal  my  woes  as  they  have  healed  worse  ones  before  now. 
'From  him  who  hath  not  shall  be  taken  away  even  that  which 
he  hath/  '  Grin  and  bear  it/  is  sound  philosophy,  and  is,  after 
all,  only  Epictetus  condensed.  Grin,  I  may.  Dear  it,  I  must. 
Upon  the  whole,  I  think  I  will  grin."  And  something  of  the 
nature  of  a  smile  played  about  his  distorted  features,  giving 
him  a  sardonic  and  unamiable  aspect  of  which  he  was  quite 
unconscious,  and  quickly  followed  by  a  very  unphilosophical 
yawn  and  sigh.  The  circumstances  were  not  conducive  to 
philosophy,  and  the  young  man  did  not  feel  like  a  hero. 
Things  looked  uncommonly  doleful.  He  Avas  not  sublime. 
He  was  not  pathetic.  He  was  simply  ridiculous,  and  he  knew 
it.  It  occurred  to  him  that  not  one  of  the  grand  old  philoso- 
phers could  have  posed  much  for  future  generations,  situated 
as  he  was.  "Philosophy  is  a  delusion  and  a  snare,"  he 
thought.  "  It  is  easier  to  write  sage  truths  and  be  stoical  on 
paper,  than  to  evince  much  grandeur  of  spirit  lying  in  dressing- 
gown  and  slippers  on  a  hard  sofa  in  a  commonplace  farm- 
house, with  an  aching  head  and  a  black  eye.  Now  I  might 
summon  Jimmie  up  here,  and,  folding  my  toga  solemnly  abont 
me,  show  him  '  how  sublime  a  thing  it  is  to  suffer  and  be 
strong/  but  Jim  has  not  that  meek  and  lowly  spirit  which  is  an 
ornament  to  youth.     I  fancy  my  visage  might  excite  unseemly 


46  ONE     SUMMER. 

mirth  in  the  little  rascal,  and  moral  maxims,  issuing  from 
arnica  bandages,  would  be  apt  to  lose  their  potency.  How  in 
the  name  of  all  that  is  wonderful  did  the  girl  manage  to  do  so 
much  mischief  without  doing  more  ?  "  he  asked  himself.  "  If 
that  umbrella  —  may  the  foul  fiend  fly  away  with  it !  —  had 
had  a  pointed  end  —  "  Why,  how  did  the  thing  end  ?  It 
was  small,  light,  a  lady's  umbrella.  Where  his  hand  had 
rested  there  was  a  cross.  He  now  remembered  feeling  the 
horizontal  piece  of  metal,  —  was  it  not?  It  all  came  back 
to  him  plainly.  A  pretty  little  umbrella,  probably,  with  a, 
silver  cross  on  it,  perhaps,  and  some  sort  of  an  ornament 
on  the  other  end,  —  which  was,  thank  Heaven,  blunt !  —  iii 
short,  an  umbrella  such  as  city  girls  carry.  Odd  for  this 
girl  to  have  such  elegant  belongings.  Yet  rlife  is  an  enigma. 
Jane  Maria  Holbrook  went  to  the  pasture  "  to  call  the  cattle 
home  "  with  a  black  lace  mask  veil  strapped  tight  over  her 
sharp  nose.     She  too,  poor  child,  has  aspirations  ! 

At  this  moment  Jane  Maria  knocked  and  giggled  at  the 
door.  It  is  perhaps  superfluous  to  say  she  giggled.  She 
knocked,  is  sufficient,  The  giggle  accompanied  and  followed 
every  act  and  speech  of  the  ingenuous  Jane  Maria.  She  was 
nineteen,  and  she  read  the  New  York  Ledger.  Mr.  Ogden 
was  not  an  Adonis,  under  the  most  favorable  circumstances : 
but  Jane  Maria  thought  him  "  perfickly  splendid,"  he  was  so 
much  like  Lord  Romaine  Cecil  Beresford  in  the  "  Haunted 
Homes  of  Hillsdale ;  or,  The  Thrilling  Three."  Mr.  Ogden 
told  her  to  come  in,  and  the  girl  ventured  to  open  the  door, 
then  stood  in  real  distress  to  see  the  man  so  like  her  favorite 
hero  in  the  "  H.  H.  of  H.,w  etc.,  lying  on  a  sofa  with  a  ghastly 


ONE     SUMMER.  49 

white  handkerchief  spread  over  his  aristocratic  features,  and 
revealing  to  her  troubled  gafce  only  a  portion  of  that  noble 
brow  which  was  the  counterpart  of  Lord  R.  C.  B/s  in  the 
electrifying  romance  before  mentioned.  Mr.  Ogden  spoke  in 
his  usual  tone,  thereby  dissipating  any  vague  fears  that  he 
had  been  cruelly  wounded  by  base  ruffians  while  wending  his 
way  over  the  gloomy  heath. 

"Miss  Jennie,  I  ran  against  something  last  night,  and  hurt 
my  eye  a  little.  Please  tell  your  mother  I  do  not  wish  any 
breakfast,  and  that  I  have  everything  I  need." 

Jane  Maria  was  a  silly  child,  no  doubt,  but  she  had  a  good 
heart,  and  she  was  very  sorry  to  see  Lord  Romaine,  that  is, 
Mr.  Ogden,  in  so  helpless  a  condition,  and  she  did  not  believe 
he  was  comfortable,  and  she  stood  swinging  the  door  and  agi- 
tating her  elbows  and  blushing  violently ;  all  of  which  Mr. 
Ogden  knew  quite  as  well  as  if  his  eyes  had  been  wide  open 
and  fastened  upon  her.  He  did  not  know,  however,  that  her 
very  soul  overflowed  with  gratitude  every  time  he  addressed 
her  as  "  Miss  Jennie,"  a  kindly  softening  of  the  detested 
Jane  Maria  which  he  had  chanced  upon  only  because  "  Miss 
Holbrook "  failed,  he  had  discovered,  to  distinguish  the 
daughter  from  the  mother. 

"  If  there  is  anything  I  could  do,  Mr.  — "  she  faltered, 
almost  saying  Beresford,  and,  in  her  confusion,  not  daring  to 
attempt  Ogden. 

"  Nothing,  thank  you,  Miss  Jennie,  unless  "  —  feeling  her 
disappointment  —  "  you  would  have  the  kindness  to  bring  me 
some  fresh  water." 

She  left  him  and  soon  returned  with  the  water  and  the  ma- 


50  ONE     SUMMER. 

temal  Holbrook,  who  came  up  with  the  evident  intention  of 
staying  an  hour  or  two  and  learning  all  the  particulars  of  the 
accident.  It  required  the  exercise  of  much  tact  and  irresisti- 
ble gentleness  of  manner,  which  was  perhaps  his  peculiar 
charm,  to  undermine  the  curiosity  of  his  hostess  and  baffle 
her  cross-questioning  without  giving  offence,  and  to  plead  a 
nervous  headache  and  increased  inflammation  of  his  eye  if  he 
were  not  left  in  perfect  quiet.  He  knew  enough  of  Edgecomb 
ways  to  feel  tolerably  certain  that  a  plain  statement  of  the 
facts  of  the  case  would  be  more  than  sufficient  to  cause  the 
circulation  of  marvellous  fables  in  which  perhaps  would  figure 
a  legion  of  young  Amazons  armed  with  gigantic  umbrellas, 
and  there  would  be  nothing  whatever  left  of  him.  Mrs.  Hol- 
brook went  down  to  her  household  cares  hardly  realizing,  until 
her  departure,  that  she  had  gained  no  information  concerning 
Mr.  Ogden's  affairs,  and  then  formed  a  theory  of  her  own, 
that  her  "  city  young  man  "  had  fallen  down  and  hurt  himself, 
and  was  ashamed  to  tell  of  it,  which  wise  conclusion  she  boldly 
advanced  as  an  historical  fact ;  while  poor  little  freckled  Jane 
Maria  went  about  in  a  dream  all  day,  and  looked  upon  Lord 
Eo  —  Mr.  Ogden's  accident  as  a  beautiful  mystery  into  which 
she  could  not  and  would  not  penetrate- 
As  for  the  young  man  himself,  he  enjoyed  the  encounter, 
but  was  thankful  that  it  was  brief,  and,  as  Mrs.  Holbrook 
finally  twanged  out  her  adieus  and  left  him  weak  yet  victorious, 
he  applied  his  arnica  and  water  with  a  placid  smile,  and 
thought  that  after  all  there  were  evils  in  life  worse  than  a 
bruised  eye  and  solitude.  Yet  the  woman  meant  well.  She 
was  shrewd  enough  too.     Considerable  strategic  ability  was 


ONE     SUMMER.  51 

necessary  to  turn  her  questions  out  of  their  course  without 
letting  her  see  what  he  was  doing.  "  She  probably  could  as- 
sist with  cool  nerve  and  steady  hand  at  the  amputation  of  a 
man's  leg,  but  what  does  she  know  of  the  aesthetics  of  a  sick- 
room ?  She  would  drive  one  into  a  nervous  fever,  with  hei 
questions,  her  diabolical  voice,  and  her  heavy  step.  And  -lane 
Maria  too,  poor  girl,  how  she  giggles,  and  rattles  the  door- 
knobs, and  works  those  elbows  !  "  Thus  he  mused,  more  in 
sorrow  than  in  anger.  He  had  supposed  there  were  some 
things  which  all  women  knew  by  intuition.  That  refinement, 
training,  were  non-essentials  in  a  sick-room,  that  the  womanly 
heart  was  the  one  thing  needful.  Well,  it  was  only  another 
lost  illusion.  Holbrook,  mere,  might  have  a  womanly  heart. 
He  certainly  knew  nothing  to  the  contrary.  But  she  could 
never  be  anything  but  elephantine.  He  was  inclined  to  believe 
too  that  little  Jennie  could  never  learn  to  pour  water  without 
deluging  everything;  still,  she  was  young  and  might  admit  of 
reform. 

Through  the  long  day  he  lay  dozing,  thinking,  smoking, 
listening  to  the  busy  sounds  from  below,  occasionally  pacing 
up  and  down  his  room,  but  returning  gladly  enough  to  his 
couch,  finding  more  relief  there  than  elsewhere.  He  was  a 
man  who  knew  little  of  what  he  had  called  the  aesthetics  of 
a  sick-room,  except  from  vague  recollections  of  his  childhood 
and  from  theory ;  but,  falling  towards  the  close  of  the  day 
into  a  mildly  sentimental  revery,  he  fancied  that  it  might  be  an 
agreeable  sensation  to  have  soft  hands  quietly,  and  unsolicited, 
moisten  his  bandage  when  the  fever  in  his  face  heated  it;  that 
a  favorite  poem  or  attractive  essay,  read  with  the  sweet  and 


52  ONE     SUMMER. 

appreciative  intonation  which  would  nn questionably  be  a  special 
charm  of  that  "  not  impossible  she,"  would  be  not  only  an  in- 
describable relief  to  the  monotony  of  such  a  day,  but  a  blessing 
for  which  he  thought  he  should  know  how  to  be  sufficiently 
grateful.  Yes,  his  ideal  woman  would  have  all  the  graces  of 
the  art  of  ministering.  Her  boots  would  never  creak.  Her 
dress  would  never  rustle.-  She  would  not  annoy  him  with  a 
perennial  giggle,  nor  shake  the  rafters  with  her  massive  tread. 
She  would,  in  short,  he  concluded,  disgusted  with  his  own 
poor  performance  of  the  role  of  sister  of  mercy,  be  a  perfect 
woman  nobly  planned,  to  administer  cool  bandages  with  skill 
and  despatch,  and  without  sending  rivulets  to  penetrate  his  left 
ear,  as  he  was  then  doing.  How  would  the  mingled  fumes  of 
arnica  and  an  unlimited  number  of  cigars  impress  this  paragon 
whom  he  was  in  imagination  introducing  into  his  apartment, 
he  wondered,  as  he  ventured,  now  that  the  sun  had  almost  set, 
to  throw  open  the  blinds  of  an  east  window.  She  would  man- 
age in  some  way  to  make  things  pleasanter,  no  doubt.  Girls 
knew  how,  he  supposed.  She  might  sprinkle  eau-de-cologne 
on  his  pillow  and  about  the  room,  perhaps.  A  man  would 
not  think  of  coddling  himself,  but  he  was  not  sure  that  he 
might  not  like  that  sort  of  thing  well  enough  if  it  were  c\one 
for  him,  he  admitted  with  that  gracious  condescension  men 
sometimes  evince  towards  ways  essentially  feminine.  At  all 
events,  he  could  testify  that  the  room  was  unpleasantly  close, 
and  the  smell  of  arnica  inhaled  steadily  for  more  than  a  dozen 
hours  an  unmitigated  bore.  Where  was  it  lately  he  had 
noticed  an  especially  delicate  perfume  ?  Not  last  night,  was 
it  ?     Ah,  yes  !     He  recalled  the  circumstance  now.     It  was 


ONE     SUMMER.  53 

when  that  shy  damsel  was  tying  the  handkerchief  for  him,  and 
again  as  he  stood  near  her  a  moment  down  at  the  door.  He 
reflected,  smilingly,  that  he  had  felt  savage,  infuriated,  like  any 
other  wounded  animal  he  supposed,  consequently  in  no  mood 
to  appreciate  perfumes,  were  they  wafted  from  Araby  the  Blest, 
or  to  speculate  upon  evidences  of  refinement  in  an  Edgecomb 
belle ;  but  it  struck  him  now,  lying  smoking  and  musing  at 
his  leisure,  as  singularly  incongruous  that  she  should  fancy  a 
faint,  delicious  odor.  Now  if  it  had  been  musk,  —  double 
extract  of  musk,  —  Jane  Maria  would  like  that,  he  was  sure. 
"Was  it  violet  ?  Of  that  he  could  not  be  quite  certain.  But 
whether  it  floated  from  her  hair,  from  glove  or  ribbon,  some- 
thing dainty  and  lady-like  there  had  been,  he  was  positive. 
And  —  starting  up  suddenly  —  was  he  a  fool  that  he  had  not 
thought  of  it  before  ?  —  she  walked  like  a  lady.  He  had  es- 
corted Jane  Maria  to  "  meetin'  "  one  evening.  She  had  taken 
his  arm  as  if  it  were  a  remote  and  dreaded  contingency.  This 
girl,  on  the  contrary,  had  accepted  it  as  an  arm  simply,  and 
leaning  slightly  upon  it,  had  moved  in  spite  of  wind  and  rain, 
and  the  poor  condition  of  the  road,  with  the  elasticity  and 
firmness  of  a  person  whose  feet  are  used  to  city  pavements,  and 
whose  mind  is  used  to  the  friction  of  city  life.  Her  gait  was 
a  forcible  contrast  to  the  slow,  heavy,  aimless  step,  prevalent, 
he  had  observed  with  surprise,  in  Edgecomb.  For  where 
should  one  look  for  health  and  energy,  if  not  among  country 
girls  ?  he  wonderingly  asked  himself.  Yet  the  rapid,  vigorous 
step,  the  fresh  color  which  he  would  have  frequent  occasion  to 
admire,  a  cool,  clear  day,  on  any  pleasant  avenue  in  a  city,  he 
had  not  once  seen  in  this  breezy  village,  where  the  air  was  so 


54  ONE     SUMMER. 

pure  and  invigorating  it  was  almost  enough  to  make  the  lame 
walk.  To  which  class,  then,  did  she  belong,  this  mysterious 
escort  with  the  erect,  spirited  carriage,  the  mystical,  faint 
fragrance,  the  gloved  hands,  the  elegant  though  vicious  um- 
brella, and  the  accent,  —  yes,  unquestionably,  the  accent  of  a 
lady  ?  Although  her  words  were  few,  any  man  not  an  egre- 
gious dolt  would  have  observed,  in  spite  of  personal  discom- 
fort, her  manner  of  speaking.  How,  then,  did  she  happen  to 
be  out  ?  That  was  not  his  affair,  certainly.  She  must  have 
thought  his  coolness  satanic.  Gave  her  some  money  too  ! 
R'm  !  And  he  lay  back  on  his  sofa  in  mute,  inglorious  despair, 
for  the  consciousness  that  the  girl  was  a  lady  had  burst  upon 
him  like  a  revelation,  with  overwhelming  force.  He  could 
not  doubt  it.  His  conviction  now  was  as  strong  as  his  utter 
obliviousness  had  been  before.  He  muttered  a  few  energetic 
imprecations  upon  his  selfish  stupidity,  but  was  nevertheless 
intensely  amused  at  the  unconscionable  aspect  of  affairs. 

A  woman  !  A  woman,  of  course,  or  all  would  yet  be  well ! 
A  man  would  have  defined  his  position  at  once  in  some  way. 
A  man  would  have  declined  taking  the  extra  walk,  or  he  would 
have  taken  it  as  a  friend  in  need,  or  he  would  have  gone  with 
the  hope  of  reward,  had  he  belonged  to  the  class  that  pockets 
fees.  In  either  event  there  would  be  no  more  trouble.  But 
now !  No  more  free  enjoyment  of  the  lavish  summer  for  him! 
No  more  lying  about  lazily,  yet  with  a  clear  conscience,  feeling 
that  it  is  "  enough  for  "  him  "  that  the  leaves  are  green,"  and 
"that  skies  are  clear  and  grass  is  growing."  Ah,  what  a  huge 
humble  pie  it  would  soon  be  his  doom  to  swallow  ! 

I  must  find  her  and  ask  her  pardon  on  my  knees ;  but  what 


ONE     SUMMER.  55 

is  an  apology,  after  dragging  her  a  couple  of  miles  and  paying 
her  like  a  coachman?  My  mission  in  Edgecoinb  is  revealed, 
at  all  events.  Fortunately,  in  this  communicative  hamlet,  it 
Anil  not  be  difficult  to  ascertain  who  she  is  and  where  she  is 
staying.  "  It  is  curious,"  he  said  aloud,  and  with  great  de- 
liberation and  emphasis,  "  how  completely  a  man  will  some- 
times stultify  himself !     Blind,  imbecile  coxcomb  !  " 


CHAPTER    IV. 


"  Tlie  prudent  penning  of  a  letter." 


Edgecomb,  Friday,  July  6,  18 — . 

SWEETEST,  my  sister,  was  it  for  this  I  toiled  and 
suffered  ?  Was  it  for  this  I  turned  Miss  Phipps's 
theories  and  rooms  topsy-turvy,  and  hammered  my 
fingers,  and  tore  the  trimming  off  my  sleeve  ?  The 
talent  I  have  displayed  as  an  upholsterer  and  general  decorator  is 
surprising,  and  my  acrobatic  feats,  if  I  may  so  classify  balancing 
myself  upon  cliair-backs  and  certain  inevitable  results  which  might 
reasonably  be  called  "  lofty  tumbling,"  truly  admirable  in  an  inex- 
perienced performer.  And  if  you  could  have  the  faintest  idea  of 
what  I  have  been  able  to  accomplish  with  that  commonplace  and 
insignificant  thing,  an  umbrella,  you  and  Tom  would  be  perfectly 
amazed.     But,  as  the  books  say,  "  we  anticipate." 

Bessie,  it  grieves  me  to  the  heart  to  think  that  before  you  come 


ONE     SUMMER.  57 

the  first  bloom  will  have  vanished  from  my  triumph  of  art,  the 
great  high-backed  chair  upon  which  I  have  nearly  exhausted  my 
genius  and  my  chintz.  Yesterday  afternoon  I  drew  it  up  to  a 
window  where  one  looks  out  on  a  charming  little  picture  framed  by 
the  branches  of  two  beautiful  elms  that  stand  near  the  house,  —  the 
pretty,  sloping  common,  and  old,  old  sun-dial  in  its  centre,  and  its 
other  edge  bordered  by  elms,  and  behind  them  a  row  of  quaint 
cottages,  beyond,  a  glimpse  of  the  river,  and  still  beyond,  the  hills 
with  their  lovely,  changing  lights.  In  a  few  moments  you  would 
be  there.  Everything  did  look  so  pretty,  Bessie.  I  turned  on  the 
threshold  to  give  a  parting  glance  into  your  room  before  I  went 
down  to  the  door  to  wait  for  the  stage.  A  light  breeze  just  rustled 
the  fresh  chintz  curtains,  gently  shaking  their  pretty,  pale  blue 
morning-glories  and  humming-birds,  and  carried  through  the  room 
a  faint  fragrance  of  mignonette  and  pansies,  and  there  was  the  dear 
old  chair  waiting  to  receive  you,  and  looking  positively  expectant. 
It  really  has  a  great  deal  of  expression,  and  it  had  such  an  inviting, 
hospitable  air,  such  a  benevolent  and  expansive  smile,  that  I  had 
to  give  it  a  little  pat  of  approval  every  time  I  went  near  it.  Every- 
thing was  ready,  and  I  was  so  happy,  and  was  fancying  how  de- 
lightful it  would  be  to  usher  you  up  to  your  nest,  and,  pointing  to 
the  curtains  and  toilet-table  and  the  various  tilings  I  had  prepared 
for  your  comfort  and  pleasure,  modestly,  yet  with  pardonable  pride, 
say,  "  These  are  my  jewels."  Just  then  I  heard  the  stage.  Out 
of  the  house  I  ';  flung,"  —  why  may  I  not  say  it  if  Eobert  Brown- 
ing does'?  —  I  stood  at  the  gate  and  watched  that  ancient  vehicle 
toil  up  the  hill.  Imagine  my  distracted  state  of  mind  when  it 
actually  went  lumbering  by.  I  could  not  believe  my  eyes.  No 
Bessie,  no  baby,  no  Tom  I  Like  that  pathetic  "  dove  on  the  mast 
as  we  sailed  fast,"  I  did  "mourn,  and  mourn,  and  mourn."  With 
a  desolate,  moated-grange  sensation,  I  turned  and  went  into  the 
house.     At  the  door  stood  Miss  Phipps,  eying  me  curiously. 


58  ONE     SUMMER. 

"  Oh  !  yer  folks  did  n't  arrive,  did  they  ?     Oh  !  " 

I  replied  with  some  dignity,  and  a  huge  lump  in  my  throat,  that 
something  apparently  had  detained  my  friends.  I  passed  up  stairs. 
What  a  change  in  those  few  moments  !  The  sky  had  grown  cloudy. 
The  breeze  was  chilly  and  damp.  The  distant  hills  looked  cold  and 
gray.  The  curtains  suggested  the  vanity  of  all  human  hopes.  The 
chair  stood  a  great  clumsy,  melancholy  monument  to  the  transitory 
nature  of  happiness. 

For  an  individual  who  has  always  professed  to  doubt  the  efficacy 
of  tears,  I  had  a  singularly  strong  inclination  to  cry.  The  disap- 
pointment was  so  sudden,  so  bewildering,  you  see.  I  could  not 
stay  up  there.  I  grew  too  homesick.  I  closed  the  windows  and 
door  and  wandered  about  drearily,  and  then  I  sat  down  in  the 
porch,  watching  the  clouds  gathering  fast,  and  waited  there  "  ex- 
ceeding comfortless,"  until  a  small  boy  for  whose  trustworthiness 
Miss  Phipps  vouches,  and  whom  I  have  engaged  to  bring  my 
letters,  appeared  with  Tom's  document,  and  I  learned  my  fate. 
My  Mercury,  otherwise  Jimmie  Holbrook,  seated  himself  on  the 
fence,  whistled  "  Shoo  Fly,"  swung  his  feet  vigorously,  and  stared 
at  me  intently  as  I  opened  my  letter.  I  glanced  up,  and  said  sol- 
emnly, — 

"  That  will  do,  James.     I  do  not  want  you  any  longer." 

Could  any  one  have  received  a  more  direct  dismissal  ?  You  im- 
agine that  he  at  once  retreated  respectfully  from  the  presence,  do 
you  ? 

On  the  contrary,  he  smiled  in  an  imperturbable  manner,  and  re- 
sponded cheerfully,  — 

"  Well,  you  ain't  likely  to  have  me  any  shorter.  Fences  is  free, 
and  I  like  yer  looks  !  " 

This  astounding  declaration  silenced  me.  Reflecting  that  Jim- 
mie probably  had  not  a  judicious  mamma,  and  feeling  rather  grate- 


ONE     SUMMER. 


59 


ful  to  the  child  for  diverting  me  in  my  sadness  by  his  good-humored 
impudence,  I  read  and  reread  Tom's  letter  and  yours,  and  medi- 


tated gloomily  until  the  "  silent  mist  came  up  and  hid  the  land," 
and  the  air  grew  more  damp  and  more  salt  every  moment,  and 


60  ONE     SUMMER. 

finally  down  came  the  rain.  Down  also  came  that  terrible  child 
from  his  post  of  observation.  He  responded  to  my  "  Good  night, 
Jimmie,"  with  singularly  explosive  shrieks  and  uncouth  pirouettes, 
and  started  off  in  a  rapid  and  impish  manner  for  his  home.  And 
I  went  in  to  my  lonely  supper,  a  cold,  forlorn,  homesick,  wretched 
girl. 

And  afterwards  —  O  Bessie,  I  could  a  tale  unfold  !  But  I  will 
not,  because  you  have  a  Tom  who  hears  all  your  secrets.  If  I  dis- 
grace the  family  while  I  stay  here,  remember  it  will  be  his  fault, 
for  he  left  me.  Do  not  be  alarmed.  Phipps  and  I  have  not  come 
to  blows  yet,  though  what  may  result  from  my  sojourn  remains  to 
be  seen.  I  have  certainly  developed  some  hitherto  latent  traits,  or 
"  tricks  and  manners,"  perhaps  I  should  say,  and  it  is  impossible 
to  tell  where  I  shall  stop.  There  is  a  room  here  that  is  positively 
maddening  if  you  stay  in  it  long  enough,  and  there  are  electri- 
cal currents  in  the  Edgecomb  atmosphere  that  make  "gleams  and 
glooms  "  dart  across  one's  brain  in  an  inexplicable  way,  and  my 
conduct  has  been  most  strikingly  original,  —  wherein  lies  a  pointed 
joke,  and  yet  no  joke. 

As  you  must  see,  there  is  a  burden  on  my  conscience.  I  shall 
never  rest  until  I  make  my  confession.  But  not  to-day.  It  is  too 
soon,  and  then,  there's  Tom. 

It  is  a  glorious  morning.  You  will  enjoy  the  air  here  so  much, 
and  the  views,  which  are  charming  in  every  direction.  I  am  going 
out  directly  to  mail  my  voluminous  letter,  and  to  discover  the 
pleasantest  walks  in  this  pretty  neighborhood.  I  have  resolved  to 
be  as  cheerful  as  circumstances  will  permit.  I  am  not  yet  "  recon- 
ciled," but  have  recovered  from  the  first  crushing  effects  of  my 
grief.  I  am  "beginning  to  take  notice,"  as  some  one  said  about 
our  friend  the  pretty  widow.  Something  has  partly  turned  my' 
attention  from  my  disappointment,  and  set  my  thoughts  running 


ONE     SUMMER.  6 1 

in  curious  channels.  My  secret  is  on  the  tip  of  my  pen,  and 
dying  to  drop  off.  To-morrow,  perhaps  I  will  disclose  my  guilt 
in  its  enormity.  Bessie,  of  course  I  have  done  nothing  darkly  and 
desperately  wicked,  but  do  come  quickly.  I  am  not  so  reliable 
as  I  thought  I  was.  Tom's  confidence  in  what  he  is  pleased  to  call 
my  "  clear  little  head  "  is  sadly  misplaced.  Everybody  has  been 
mistaken  in  me  always. 

Have  I  told  you  what  a  furious  storm  there  was  last  night  ?  It 
made  a  greater  impression  on  me  than  ever  a  storm  did  before,  and 
I  am  not  the  only  person  in  Edgecomb  who  has  reason  to  remem- 
ber it. 

Grow  strong  very,  very  fast,  kiss  baby  for  me,  and  make  Tom 
bring  you  soon  to  Edgecomb  and 

Your  loving 

Leigh. 

Accompanying  this  epistle  was  the  following  :  — 

Thanks  for  your  letter,  my  dear  Tom,  and  I  may  eventually 
thank  you  for  allowing  your  "  business  complications  "  to  detain 
you,  but  I  must  confess  I  do  not  feel  grateful  yet.  There  is,  I 
suppose,  a  law  of  compensation,  and  no  loss  without  some  gain, 
they  say,  and  Edgecomb  may  have  something  beautiful  in  store 
for  me,  but  it  has  not  begun  well.  Do  hurry,  Tom;  that's  a 
dear  boy.  Never  mind  business.  And,  Tom,  you  need  not  give 
yourself  the  trouble  to  hunt  up  that  friend  of  yours,  that  Mr.  Og- 
den,  and  send  him  to  call  upon  me.  I  do  not  think  I  would  like 
him.  I  know  I  should  not.  I  am  convinced  he  is  "exactly  the 
style  of  man  "  I  always  heartily  dislike.     Please  don't,  Tom  ! 


CHAPTEE  V. 

"  You  lazy,  not  very  clean,  good-for-nothing,  sensible  boy  !  "  —  Thackeray. 

S^KJKsS'  ^  umbrella  catastrophe  enforced  upon  Mr.  Og- 
den  a  week's  seclusion,  in  which  the  stupidity  of 
one  day  differed  but  slightly  from  the  stupidity  of 
another.  An  avalanche  of  cpiestions  from  Mrs. 
Holbrook,  concerning  the  smallest  details  of  his  previous  his- 
tory as  well  as  his  intentions  for  the  future,  threatened  daily  to 
overwhelm  him,  but,  thanks  to  his  mental  agility,  he  escaped. 
He  gradually  learned  to  consider  each  contest  with  her  a  matu- 
tinal tonic,  unpleasant  but  strengthening.  Before  her  advent 
he  fortified  himself.  He  studied  an  unsatisfactory  and  mysti- 
fying style  of  conversation.  He  intrenched  himself  behind 
the  longest  words  in  his  vocabulary,  and  when  they  failed  he 
did  not  hesitate  to  coin  longer  ones.  The  subterfuges  to 
which  he  resorted  in  order  to  shorten  her  visits  were  invented 
with  rapidity  and  ease,  and  displayed  a  neatness  of  execution 
upon  which  he  congratulated  himself,  being  but  a  novice  in 
the  art  of  finessing. 

Upon  one  occasion,  when  Mrs.  Holbrook  entered  his  room, 
she  found  him  lying  with  a  handkerchief  over  his  face,  his 


ONE     SUMMER.  63 

hands  clasped  peacefully  on  his  breast,  while  his  gentle,  regu- 
lar respiration,  placid  as  that  of  a  sleeping  infant,  pleaded 
eloquently  in  his  behalf.  Her  step  became  no  lighter,  her 
voice  no  less  harsh  and  discordant  out  of  consideration  for 
the  invalid's  nap,  and  Jane  Maria  as  usual  convulsively  played 
her  Rondo  Capriccioso  upon  the  door-knob,  but  nothing  ap- 
parently could  disturb  that  beautiful  repose.  Though  this 
artifice  routed  the  enemy,  Mr.  Ogden  felt  that  a  repetition  of 
it  might  create  suspicion  in  the  least  astute  mind,  since  Mrs. 
Holbrookes  colossal  presence  would  have  awakened  the  Seven 
Sleepers  ;  "  and  then,"  he  thought,  "  a  man  who  from  the 
nature  of  his  position  idly  dozes  through  a  good  deal  of  the 
day  and  who  has  openly  confessed  to  his  tormentors  that  he 
habitually  sleeps  well  nights,  cannot  reasonably  be  at  it  again 
at  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning.  There 's  a  limit  to  all 
things."     He  forebore,  and  developed  other  resources. 

Once  he  greeted  her  with  rambling,  incoherent  words  and 
confused  utterance.  He  endeavored  to  arrive  at  a  golden 
mean  between  delirium  and  idiocy.  In  this  temporary  de- 
rangement of  the  intellect,  he  did  not  aim  at  wildness  that 
would  alarm  her,  and  cause  her  to  summon  her  husband  and 
the  laborers,  the  long  sweep  of  whose  scythes  he  could  hear 
near  the  house.  Hopeless,  impenetrable  dulness,  absolute  in- 
capacity to  receive  or  impart  ideas,  was  his  artistic  design. 
This  he  at  first  regarded  as  magnificent  strategy,  and  decid- 
edly his  best  effort,  but  modified  his  views  when,  to  his  horror, 
she  came  again  that  day.  His  faculties  were  so  benumbed  by 
her  unexpected  appearance,  that,  had  she  but  appreciated  her 
advantage  and  pursued  it  skilfully,  it  is  probable  that  he  would 


64  ONE     SUMMER. 

have  told  her  everything  he  knew.  He  blessed  the  unknown 
voice  which  called  her  down  to  her  own  domain,  and  real- 
izing that  this  time  fate,  and  not,  as  before,  his  own  exertions, 
had  extricated  him  from  his  danger,  consoled  himself  with  the 
reflection  that  there  must  be  one  unguarded  moment  in  the  life 
of  the  craftiest  diplomatist. 

These  trials  of  skill  were  somewhat  enlivening.  He  also  de- 
rived a  mild  excitement  from  observing  the  new  and  startling 
hues  which  the  variegated  cheek  assumed  as  his  swollen  face 
gradually  regained  its  natural  outline,  and  the  endangered  eye 
feebly  yet  gladly  beheld  again  the  light  of  day. 

Jane  Maria  blissfully  served  her  wounded  knight's  repasts, 
and  evinced  a  sincere  though  tremulous  desire  to  do  all  in  her 
power  for  his  comfort.  One  morning,  when  she  inquired,  as 
usual,  if  he  wished  anything  more,  he  abandoned  his  formula, 
"Nothing,  thank  you,  Miss  Jennie/'  and  surprised  her  by 
saying  he  thought  he  should  enjoy  a  call  from  Jim,  if  the  boy 
did  not  object,  Why  any  person,  not  forced  to  submit  to  the 
infliction  of  her  mischievous  brother's  presence,  should  deliber- 
ately seek  it,  was  beyond  her  comprehension ;  but  Mr.  Og- 
den's  slightest  wish  was  law  to  this  adoring  soul,  and  inwardly 
responding,  "  I  fly,  my  lord,  to  execute  thy  mandate,"  she 
went  to  find  Jimmie. 

Some  time  elapsed  before  he  appeared.  He  had  first  to  be 
discovered.  This  the  loyal  Jane  accomplished  after  a  vigorous 
search  in  his  most  frequented  haunts,  and  Jimmie  was  torn 
with  a  ruthless  hand  from  the  innocent  pastime  of  trying  to 
induce  two  superannuated  roosters  to  pick  out  each  other's  eyes, 
and  was  half  dragged,  half  coaxed  into  the  house.     Here  Jane 


ONE     SUMMER.  65 

Maria  resigned  the  command,  and  the  child,  thanks  to  his 
mother's  efficient  generalship,  after  a  sound  of  scuffling  at  the 
foot  of  the  stairs  and  other  indications  of  a  family  jar,  finally 
presented  himself  before  Mr.  Ogden. 

It  was  evident  that  the  prospect  of  a  tete-a-tete  with  the  in- 
valid, in  what  he  had  a  moment  before  distinctly  and  turbu- 
lently  called  "  that  darn  poky  old  room/'  was  not  alluring  to 
Jimmie. 

Mr.  Ogden  appreciated  the  boy's  feelings,  and  did  not  won- 
der at  the  somewhat  morose  aspect  of  his  young  visitor. 

"  Ah,  Jimmie,  is  that  you  ?     How  are  you  to-day  ?  " 

"  Well  enough,"  was  the  brief  response. 

"  Sit  down,  won't  you  ?  " 

"  Can't  stop.  Ain't  got  time,"  the  child  replied,  with  an 
uncompromising  air.  His  terse  style  of  conversation  was  a 
refreshing  contrast  to  Mrs.  Holbrook's  volubility.  Mr.  Ogden 
had  certain  profound  reasons  for  desiring  to  propitiate  Jimmie. 
Ignoring  the  boy's  dogged  manner,  he  said  carelessly,  — 

"  Any  candy-shops  in  Edgecomb  ?  " 

"  Rather  !  "  Jimmie  replied  with  emphasis. 

"  Jim,  do  you  like  taffy  ?  "  was  the  next  significant  inquiry. 

"You  bet!" 

Here  a  silent  transfer  occurred. 

Jimmie  pocketed  the  "  filthy  palimpsest  "  with  a  very  slight 
increase  of  cheerfulness.  His  was  not  one  of  those  base  na- 
tures with  which  money  is  all-powerful.  He  still  sighed  for 
his  freedom,  for  his  roosters.  He  was  mollified,  not  com- 
pletely subdued.  Mr.  Ogden,  observing  this,  played  his  high- 
est trump.  Removing  the  damp  cloth  which  he  still  wore 
upon  his  face,  he  said,  — 


66  ONE     SUMMER. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  that  for  a  black  eye,  Jimmie  ?  " 

Liveliest  interest  was  instantly  depicted  on  the  child's  coun- 
tenance, as  he  eagerly  asked,  — 

"  Who  did  yer  fight  ?     Did  yer  lick  him  ?  » 

Here  was  a  dilemma.  But  Mr.  Ogden  could  not  afford  to 
lose  the  point  he  had  gained.  With  Machiavelian  policy,  he 
solemnly  remarked,  — 

"  Jimmie,  I  always  lick  when  I  fight/' 

"  Do  yer,  though  ?     Honest  ?     Let 's  feel  yer  muscle." 

With  much  inward  amusement,  but  with  a  perfectly  grave 
face,  Mr.  Ogden  submitted  his  arm  to  the  critical  examination 
of  his  young  visitor,  who  manipulated  his  biceps  with  the  air 
of  a  connoisseur,  and  admiringly  expressed  uncuialined  ap- 
proval. 

"  Eeggler  stunners,  ain't  they  ?  " 

Jimmie  was  won. 

From  that  moment  he  was 

"  Rapt 
By  all  the  sweet  and  sudden  passion  of  youth 
Towards  greatness  in  its  elder," 

and  looked  upon  Mr.  Ogden  as  Lavaine  upon  Launcelot  with 

that 

"  Reverence, 

Dearer  to  true  young  hearts  than  their  own  praise," 
or,  to  descend  abruptly  from  Tennysonian  heights  to  Jimmie's 
level,  and  use  a  comparison  within  his  grasp,  Mr.  Ogden  be- 
came as  glorious  in  his  eyes  as  a  champion  prize-fighter,  and 
the  boy  went  freely  in  and  out  of  the  room  during  the  two  re- 
maining days  of  the  captivity,  with  a  glad  conviction  that  he 
had  found  something  more  precious  than  roosters. 


ONE     SUMMER.  67 

Mr.  Ogden  promised  to  tell  Jimmie  some  time  how  he 
had  received  the  bruise.  Just  now  he  wished  "  nothing  said 
about  it."  Jimmie  gave  a  knowing  wink,  and  unhesitatingly 
swore  secrecy. 

Then,  not  only  to  advance  his  own  interests,  because 
Jimmie  himself  was  a  safer  person  to  catechise  than  any  of 
Jimmie's  kinsfolk,  but  because  he  found  the  child's  bright  face 
and  sturdy,  honest  ways  attractive,  Mr.  Ogden  became  fasci- 
nating in  the  extreme,  by  asking  about  trout-streams,  and  how 
far  out  they  had  to  go  for  mackerel,  and  by  talking  of  wher- 
ries, of  the  impending  circus,  of  birdVeggs,  and  finally  he  ap- 
proached the  important  and  long-delayed  topic. 

"  Are  there  many  strangers  in  Edgecomb  this  summer, 
Jimmie  ?  " 

"  "Well,  there 's  you,"  said  the  boy,  "  and  there 's  some  folks 
down  to  the  tavern,  and  there 's  my  girl,  and  that 's  about  all 
there  is  now,  I  guess.     Sometimes  there  's  more." 

"  And  who  might  your  girl  be  ?  " 

"  Why,  the  one  I  take  letters  to,"  said  Jim,  drawing  himself 
up  with  dignity.  "  She  gits  a  heap.  She  's  had  four,  and  she 
ain't  been  here  two  weeks  yet." 

"  Then  you  know  her  name,  of  course  ?  " 

"  Once  it  was  Miss  L.  L.  Doane,  and  twice  it  was  Miss 
Doane,  and  the  last  time  it  was  Miss  Laura  Leigh  Doane." 

"  Doane,  —  Doane,"  thought  Mr.  Ogden.  "  Who  was  it 
married  a  Miss  Doane  while  I  was  abroad  ?  If  I  am  not  mis- 
taken it  was  Otis.  But  it  may  not  be  the  same  family.  Nor 
Jim's  young  lady,  my  young  lady." 

Jimmie  went  on,  — 


68  ONE     SUMMER. 

"  She  *s  to  ole  ]\Iiss  Phippses,  yer  know.  Her  folks  was 
a-comin',  but  they  ain't  come  yet.  She  's  mighty  anxious  to 
get  hold  of  her  letters.  Ain't  she  spry,  though,  about  pullin' 
'em  open  an'  reaclin'  'em  quick  !  " 

Mr.  Ogden,  having  passed  some  weeks  in  Edgecomb,  could 
appreciate  Miss  Doane's  eagerness  to  hear  from  her  friends. 
It  was  however  yet  to  be  proven  if  it  were  she  who  had  made 
upon  him  so  lasting  an  impression. 

"  I  should  imagine  your  young  lady  would  be  lonely." 
"  She  was  kinder  doleful  at  first,  but  my  !  she  's  chipper 
as  a  cricket  now.  You  'd  oughter  see  her  a-startin'  off  over 
the  bridge.  She  just  goes  it  !  She  don't  act  much  like  our 
Jane  M'ria,  always  a-hangin'  on  to  things,"  said  the  boy, 
scornfully,  "  an',  by  thunder,  ain't  she  a  beauty  ?  " 

"  Why,  Jim,  I  had  no  idea  you  were  such  a  critic  of  the  fair 
sex,"  said  Mr.  Ogden,  laughing. 

"  I  rather  guess  I  know  when  folks  is  good-lookin'.  Jane 
M'ria  says  she's  the  image  of  the  hotty  Lady  I-mer-gin. 
She  's  in  one  o'  them  Ledger  yarns,  yer  know.  I  never  see 
I-mer-gin,  an'  I  don't  want  ter,  but  this  one  's  got  yaller  hair 
an'  big  black  eyes.  She  an'  I  gits  along  first-rate,"  the  little 
fellow  continued  confidentially.  "  I  showed  her  the  way  to 
the  ole  fort;  an'  she  takes  lots  o'  things  and  goes  over  most 
ev'ry  day." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  lots  of  things,  Jimmie  ?  " 
"  "Well,  she  takes  a  readin'-book,  an'  a  drawin'-book,  an'  a 
basket  for  leaves  an'  things,  yer  know,  an'  most  ginrally  a 

ombrell." 

"  Ah,  she  carries  an  umbrella,  does  she,  this  Miss   L.  L. 


ONE     SUMMER.  69 

Doane  ?  A  wise  precautionary  measure,  certainly.  She  is 
no  doubt  a  prudent  young  person.  And  what  kind  of  an 
umbrella  ?     Did  you  ever  happen  to  notice  it  particularly  ?  " 

"  It 's  got  a  shiny  ball  on  top.  Pewter,  I  guess.  An'  a 
pewter  cross-piece  on  the  handle.  It 's  a  real  jolly  little 
oinbrell." 

"  Very  jolly/'  said  Mr.  Ogden,  with  decision. 

"  Why,  yer  ain't  seen  it,  have  yer  ? "  asked  Jimmie,  in 
surprise. 

"  No,  I  cannot  say  that  I  have  ever  actually  seen  it.  But 
I  have  a  remembrance  of  once  holding  in  my  hand  an  umbrella 
similar  to  the  one  you  describe.  And  I  coincide  with  your 
opinion  that  it  is  jolly,  —  very  jolly  indeed.  And,  Jimmie, 
you  are  a  fine  boy.  You  shall  go  down  the  river  in  my 
wherry  as  often  as  you  like  when  I  get  out  again.  I  think 
we  are  going  to  be  excellent  friends.  Shake  hands,  Jimmie, 
and  then  you  may  run  away." 

Jimmie  blushed  with  pleasure.  He  had  never  before  been 
called  a  fine  boy.  He  had  never  been  in  a  wherry.  He  with- 
drew in  a  beatific  state,  and  Mr.  Ogden  was  left  to  his  reflec- 
tions. 

"  Circumstantial  evidence  is  frequently  at  fault,  but  the 
chances  are  ten  to  one  in  favor  of  Jimmie's  Miss  Doane  and 
my  incognita  being  one  and  the  same  person." 

He  gained  additional  information  when  he  received,  the  next 
day,  this  note.  After  reading  it  he  gave  a  long,  low,  and  ex- 
pressive whistle. 

My  dear  Philip,  —  I  have  just  learned  with  great  rejoicing  that 
you  are  rusticating  in  Edgecomb,  the  very  place  where  I  have  just 


70  ONE     SUMMER. 

left  my  fair  sister,  Miss  Doane.  I  am  detained  here  by  business,  and 
my  wife  and  I  cannot  get  down  for  a  few  weeks,  which  leaves  Miss 
Doane  in  an  unexpectedly  lonely  condition,  and  fills  Mrs.  Otis's 
heart  with  anxious  forebodings.  Under  the  circumstances,  she  ven- 
tures to  send  her  compliments  and  say  that  she  shall  feel  extremely 
grateful,  and  infinitely  safer  about  Miss  Doane,  if  you  will  have  the 
kindness  to  call  occasionally  upon  her,  and  if  you  would  telegraph 
us  in  case  of  any  accident  or  trouble  of  any  kind,  which  we  do  not 
apprehend,  of  course ;  but  Miss  Doane  does  not  know  a  person  in 
the  place,  and  it  is  not  agreeable  for  us  to  think  of  her  as  an  exile, 
and  we  consequently  hail  you  joyfully. 

Harry  Blake  says  he  shall  bring  his  yacht  round  there  during 
the  summer,  and  that  he  expects  you  to  join  him.  We  shall  all  be 
glad  to  see  you  again,  and  we  '11  have  a  magnificent  reunion  on  the 
Idlewild. 

As  ever,  yours,  etc., 

Tom  G.  Otis. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Dost  thou  think  I  care  for  a  satire  or  an  epigram?" 

Much  Ado  About  Nothing. 

}  HE  Saturday  of  the  week  following  the  accident 
i|||p  was  a  "  gray  day,"  with  that  soft,  moist  atmos- 
phere which,  inland,  might  predict  rain,  but  which 
in  Edgecomb  was  often  but  a  mild  intimation  ot 
the  proximity  of  old  Neptune.  Grateful  for  the  cloudiness 
which  favored  his  eyes  and  his  plans,  Mr.  Ogden  ventured 
out.  He  was  in  a  cheerful  frame  of  mind,  and  physically  in 
a  tolerably  good  condition,  wearing  only  a  "  black  and  blue 
spot  "  of  moderate  size  as  a  memento  of  Miss  Doane's  "jolly 
little  oinbrell." 

Having  inquired  of  Jimmie  which  was  Miss  Phipps's  house, 
he  started  off  at  a  brisk  pace  down  the  road  which  he  had  last 
traversed  under  the  peculiar  circumstances  recorded. 
Jimmie's  admiring  face  watched  him  from  the  porch. 
Suddenly  the  young  man's  course  was  arrested  by  an  — 
"  I  say,  wait  for  a  feller,  won't  yer  ?  " 
He  waited,  and  Jimmie  came  springing  towards  him. 
"  Look  here.     If  it 's  my  girl  you  're  after,  she  ain't  likely 
to  be  ter  home  mornin's.     The  fort 's  ver  best  dodge." 


72  ONE     SUMMER. 

Looking  pleasantly  at  this  wise  young  judge,  Mr.  Ogden 
said, — 

"  Jim,  you  are  '  a  youth  whom  fate  reserves  for  a  bright  fu- 
ture/ Thank  you  for  giving  your  information  as  you  did, 
instead  of  from  the  steps,  at  the  top  of  your  voice." 

"  I  ain't  in  the  habit  o'  tellin'  much  to  the  women-folks, 
they  make  such  a  darned  gabble." 

His  lofty  air  and  precocious  assumption  of  manly  superioity 
were  irresistible.     Mr.  Ogden  laughed  and  asked  him  his  age. 

"  Thirteen  next  July,"  was  the  prompt  answer. 

"  Just  twelve,  then  ?  " 

"  Well,  no,  not  percisely,  I  s'pose." 

Here  Mr.  Ogden  did  Jimmie  a  momentary  injustice.  He 
concluded  that  the  boy's  genius  as  a  profound  observer  of  hu- 
man nature  was  more  remarkable  than  his  knowledge  of 
arithmetic.  With  a  kindly,  but  wholly  superfluous  desire  to 
straighten  the  little  fellow's  tangled  ideas,  he  said,  — 

"Why  not?  What  day  of  the  month  was  your  birth- 
day?" 

"T  was  n't  no  day.  It's  goin'  to  be.  It's  a  creepin' 
along  thunderin'  slow.     It's  the  thirty-first. 

"  Indeed !  You  count  more  rapidly  than  most  persons. 
As  it  is  about  the  middle  of  July,  I  should  say  you  were  twelve 
years  old,  and  an  uncommonly  smart  boy  at  that." 

"  It  depen's  on  how  yer  looks  at  it,"  Jimmie  returned  coolly. 
"  Thirteen  next  July  is  about  my  kalkerlation." 

"  If  you  wish  to  grow  old  so  fast,  why  do  you  not  say  you 
will  be  twenty-one,  eight  years  from  the  thirty-first  day  of 
next  July  ?     It  would  be  according  to  your  principle,  and 


ONE     SUMMER.  73 

might  be  still  more  encouraging  than  your  view  of  the  mat- 
ter." 

Jimmie  knew  that  the  gentleman  was  quizzing  him,  but 
adhered  to  his  original  line  of  argument. 

"  Cos  't  ain't  reasonable/'  he  said  stoutly,  "  and  t'  other 
way  is.  Yer  see,"  he  explained,  "  I  reckon  from  the  Fourth. 
It 's  a  jolly  good  day  to  start  from.  When  the  bells  begin 
to  ring  next  Fourth-of-July  morning  and  the  old  cannon  blazes 
away  on  the  Common,  I  shall  say  to  myself, '  Ole  feller,  you  're 
fourteen  next  year,  sure  's  yer  born/  an'  it  keeps  my  spirits 
up  wonderful." 

"  You  deserve  to  be  a  second  Methuselah,  if  you  want  to 
be.     Good  by,  Jim.     We  understand  each  other,  do  we  ?  " 

"  Mum  's  the  word,  sir,"  said  the  discreet  boy ;  and  Mr. 
Ogden  resumed  his  walk. 

Otis's  letter,  he  thought,  had  lessened  some  of  his  difficul- 
ties. Presenting  himself  and  his  abject  apologies  before  Miss 
Doane  was  less  formidable  now  that  her  family  sanctioned 
their  acquaintance,  —  even  begged  him  to  take  a  friendly  in- 
terest in  her.  "  I  shall  plead  guilty,  but  recommend  myself 
strongly  to  mercy.  There  is  no  getting  round  the  awkward- 
ness of  the  affair ;  but  perhaps  she  '11  be  forgiving." 

In  this  sanguine  mood  he  approached  Miss  Phipps's  abode. 
Miss  Doane  was  out.  Having  left  his  card  with  the  antique 
maiden,  who  at  once  put  on  her  spectacles  and  severely  scru- 
tinized the  name  and  the  gentleman  who  bore  it,  he  lighted  a 
cigar  and  passed  down  the  hill  which  led  to  the  bridge.  This 
ancient  and  honorable  structure  was  nearly  a  mile  in  length 
and  wide  enough  for  three  old-fashioned  stage-coaches  to  drive 


74  ONE     SUMMER. 

abreast.  It  connected  Eclgecomb  with  an  island,  from  which 
a  second  open  bridge  extended  to  the  opposite  village  of 
Eomney.  The  chain  formed  by  the  two  bridges  and  the  island 
was  two  miles  and  a  half  long ;  so  that  one,  by  going  from 
Edgecomb  to  Romney  and  returning,  could  take  a  pleasant 
"  constitutional "  of  five  miles  over  the  bridges,  with  their 
charming  views  both  up  and  down  the  river,  and  through  the 
fragrant  wood-road  that  ran  across  the  island. 

In  Edgecomb's  golden  days  its  bridge  was  a  famous  prome- 
nade and  place  of  resort.  There  at  sunset  the  people  would 
gather,  —  old  and  young,  rich  and  poor,  —  to  walk,  to  talk, 
to  see  and  be  seen,  to  watch  the  long  light  sweep  across  the 
wide  river  and  fade  away  behind  the  hills. 

"  There  youths  and  maidens  dreaming  strayed." 

There  rose  castles  in  the  air  without  number.  There  hearts 
were  broken,  sweet  and  bitter  words  were  said,  and  many  sad 
farewells.  It  was  a  gloomy  old  bridge  crowded  with  phan- 
toms ;  but  not  one  ghost  of  the  past  disturbed  Philip  Ogden's 
peace  of  mind.  He  was  glad  to  be  a  free  man  again.  The 
outer  world  looked  pleasant  to  him  after  his  dull  week  in  the 
farm-house.  The  dead  past  was  nothing  to  him,  and  his 
thoughts  of  the  bridge  were  altogether  practical  and  common- 
place. He  noticed  that  its  timbers  were  rotten,  its  railing 
feeble  and  tottering,  —  dying  of  old  age,  and  the  "selectmen" 
would  not  give  it  any  Elixir  of  Life  in  the  shape  of  energetic 
repairs.  He  saw  one  patch  of  fresher  wood,  where  a  heavily 
laden  stage-coach  went  through  some  years  previous.  "  Com- 
fortable predicament  for  the  passengers.     I  believe  somebody 


LA  IF 

**  Mm 


ONE     SUMMER.  77 

told  me  the  accident  had  not  a  tragical  termination.  No  lives 
Avere  lost  nor  bones  broken,  but  I  am  not  surprised  that 
stages  cross  Edgecomb  bridge  no  more.'"  It  probably  was 
not  really  worth  repairing.  To  let  it  alone  or  rebuild  it  com- 
pletely was  the  only  thing  to  be  done,  and  Edgecomb  had 
apparently  decided  upon  the  former  course.  How  long  before 
it  would  fall  ?  He  leaned  over  the  railing  and  looked  at  the 
mouldering  trestle-work,  then  glanced  idly  at  the  countless 
initials,  carved  years  and  years  before,  —  some  perhaps  by 
laughing  children  trooping  noisily  down  from  school,  some  by 
happy  lovers  who  stood  there  dreamily  watching  the  moon  rise 
over  the  hills,  and  asking  blindly  of  the  future  what  it  would 
never  give  them.  The  quaint  letters  and  symbols  spoke  a 
language  which  Philip,  in  his  tranquil  mood,  failed  to  inter- 
pret. He  regarded  unfeelingly  a  heart  pierced  by  numerous 
arrows,  —  a  pitiful  design,  emblematic,  no  doubt,  of  much 
suffering.  An  old  farmer  in  a  creaking  wagon,  jogging  over 
to  Edgecomb,  nodded  familiarly,  after  the  country  fashion,  to 
the  young  man,  who  responded  pleasantly  and  went  on  his 
way. 

He  reached  the  island,  and  turned  off  from  the  main  road 
which  crossed  it  into  a  winding  path  which  ran  through  the 
woods.  Soon  he  came  to  an  opening.  Here  the  land  began 
to  rise  perceptibly  towards  the  southern  point  of  the  island, 
where  a  curious  excavation,  an  old  embankment,  and  frag- 
ments of  a  wall  marked  the  site  of  the  fort. 

He  had  not  before  visited  this  spot,  and  was  surprised  at 
the  extent  of  the  view.  West  was  Edgecomb,  thick  with  elms 
on  its  hill-slope,  crowned  by  a  row  of  stately,  sombre  houses 


7%  ONE     SUMMER. 

and  three  white  church- spires.  On  the  east,  Romney;  and 
beyond  each  village  the  pretty  hills  rising  higher  and  higher 
in  the  distance ;  while  from  his  elevated  position  he  could 
follow  the  graceful  shore -line  many  miles. 

"  This  is  fine,  but  I  presume  I  lose  half  of  it.  I  must  bring 
a  glass  over  here  to-morrow."  He  turned,  walked  a  few  steps 
leisurely  in  the  direction  of  Romney,  when  he  saw  directly 
before  him  an  object  which  he  needed  no  glass  to  appreciate. 
Leaning  against  a  rock,  looking  as  guileless  as  if  it  had  never 
been  an  instrument  of  torture,  was  an  umbrella,  —  the  umbrella 
he  could  not  well  doubt.  He  took  it  up  and  examined  it  with 
pardonable  curiosity.  It  was  a  small  black  silk  one,  with  an 
ebony  stick,  having  on  one  end  a  silver  cross,  on  the  other  the 
silver  ball  that  did  "  millions  of  mischief  " ;  and  the  missing 
link  in  the  chain  of  evidence  stared  him  in  the  face  from  a 
silver  band  on  which  was  engraved,  "  L.  L.  Doane." 

He  was  extremely  amused.  He  struck  the  palm  of  his  left 
hand  lightly  with  that  ornamental  ball,  estimated  its  weight, 
and  felt  that  he  was  a  lucky  man.  "  If  I  Avere  in  reality  Miss 
Doane's  guardian,"  he  thought,  smilingly,  "I  would  -take 
effectual  measures  to  keep  her  in  the  house  stormy  evenings, 
not  only  for  her  own  sake,  but  out  of  regard  for  the  safety  of 
the  public." 

He  inferred  that  she  must  be  in  the  vicinity.  She  probably 
liad  gone  into  the  wood  for  flowers.  He  might  miss  her 
should  he  seek  her  there.  He  would  await  her  return.  Thus 
he  reasoned,  and  serenely  anticipated  making  a  pleasant  ac- 
quaintance. 

Birch  Point,  one  of  the  loveliest  spots  on  the  shore  below 
Edgecomb,  was  seen  from  the  fort  to  the  best  advantage. 


'/  V///V 


0*5 


ONE     SUMMER.  8l 

"Perhaps  Miss  Doane  will  allow  me  to  take  her  out  rowing. 
She  might  like  that  quiet  little  cove  over  there.  Ladies  do  not 
generally  fancy  too  much  current."  Certainly  she  might  rely 
upon  him  for  any  amusement  he  could  afford  her.  She  had 
the  strongest  claim  upon  his  services.  There  was  nothing  that 
he  would  not  do  for  Otis,  and  nothing  half  good  enough  to  do. 
for  her,  in  atonement  for  his  insolence.  He  presumed  she 
would  be  an  agreeable  girl.  Otis's  wife's  sister  ought  to  be. 
That  was,  to  be  sure,  a  woman's  method  of  reasoning,  but  he 
fancied  it  would  prove  correct  in  this  instance.  A  strong 
ludicrous  element  at  the  beginning  of  an  acquaintance  was 
often  of  use.     It  gave  one  a  foundation  to  build  upon. 

In  this  state  of  benign  composure,  making  plans  as  to  drives 
and  rows  which  he  hoped  would  meet  with  Miss  Doane's  gra- 
cious approval,  he  seated  himself  on  the  rock  and  took  a  cigar 
from  his  case.  As  he  turned  to  strike  a  match,  an  open  sketch- 
book suddenly  arrested  his  attention.  The  grayish  tint  of  its 
leaves  blended  with  the  rock  on  which  it  was  lying,  and 
had  it  not  been  near  him  it  would  have  escaped  his  notice. 
He  gazed  as  if  spell-bound.  He  was  a  man  of  honor,  scrupu- 
lous in  trifles,  yet  he  took  that  book  in  his  two  hands  and  in- 
tently scrutinized  each  line  on  the  pages  before  him.  "  Every 
man  has  his .  price/'  is  an  unpleasant  misanthropical  doctrine. 
It  is  more  agreeable,  and  perhaps  as  wise  in  the  end,  to  forget 
it,  and  dwell  kindly  upon  the  vast  amount  of  temptation  poor 
human  nature  is  sometimes  enabled  to  resist.  Here  was,  no 
doubt,  a  real  temptation  to  Philip  Ogden,  and  it  would  have 
been  highly  creditable  to  him  had  he,  with  his  usual  delicacy, 
virtuously  closed  the  book.     But  that  vigorous,  dashing  style 


82  ONE     SUMMER. 

of  drawing  was  his  price.  He  did  not  resist.  He  succumbed 
completely.  He  was  even  guilty  of  the  enormous  misde- 
meanor of  reading  what  was  written  as  a  motto  for  the  sketches. 
And  then  this  misguided  man  threw  back  his  head  and  laughed 
loud  and  long,  laughed  as  he  had  not  since  he  was  a  boy  and 
had  successfully  carried  out  some  madcap  prank  at  school. 

"  She 's  a  veritable  genius  !  "  he  said.  "  She  would  make 
a  fortune  for  any  illustrated  newspaper  in  the  world.  It  is 
the  richest  thing  I  ever  saw." 

At  the  top  of  the  page  were,  wickedly  misapplied,  Shelley's 
lines,  — 

"  We  look  before  and  after, 
And  pine  for  what  is  not." 

" Before  " 
was  the  title  of  the  first  sketch,  which  depicted  this  scene  :  — 
A  pouring  rain.  A  sharp  corner  where  two  village  streets 
meet,  the  one  with  an  ascending,  the  other  with  a  descending 
slope.  Upon  what  might  be  called  the  down-grade,  advancing 
furiously,  was  a  female  figure  drawn  with  much  spirit.  Her 
draperies  were  flying  in  the  wind.  Her  umbrella,  grasped  in 
both  hands,  had  a  malignant,  evil  look,  —  an  umbrella  ram- 
pant, —  her  resolute  poise  told  of  contest  with  the  storm,  and 
strong  determination  to  go  on  in  spite  of  it.  While  upon  the 
other  street,  unconscious  of  his  doom,  sauntering  complacently 
to  meet  it,  was  a  man,  and  such  a  man  !  It  was  here  that  the 
genius  of  the  artist  had  most  forcibly  asserted  itself.  A 
dandy.  A  Turveydrop.  A  man  with  his  hat  set  jauntily  on 
the  side  of  his  head.  A  man  whose  buttonhole  bouquet  re- 
sembled a  display  of  "  mammoth  "  vegetables,  who  looked  as 


ONE     SUMMER.  83 

if  he  pointed  his  toes  when  he  walked  and  had  devoted  an 
hour  to  his  necktie,  and  whose  face  was  devoid  of  all  meaning 
except  the  unutterable  self-sufficiency  shown  in  the  lines  about 
the  mouth.  In  this  picture  collision  was  imminent,  and  upon 
the  next  page  its  results  were  portrayed  in 

u  After." 

A  rough,  hilly  country-road,  with  gloomy  woods  on  both 
sides.  Through  wind  and  rain  walk,  arm  in  arm,  the  two 
figures  described.  The  surprised,  indignant  remonstrance  of 
the  girl's  face  was  a  study.  The  man,  the  upper  part  of  his 
face  being  concealed  by  a  handkerchief  bound  round  his  eyes, 
still  disclosed  the  turned-up  corners  of  his  odious  mouth  and 
minced  well  along  pompously,  while  —  most  malicious  touch, 
of  all !  —  he  held  an  umbrella  over  his  own  head,  and  in  ex- 
actly the  position  that  would  entail  constant  drippings  on  his 
companion's.  In  the  corner  of  each  sketch  was  plainly  writ- 
ten, L.  L.  Doane.     Thus  had  she  revenged  herself. 


CHAPTER  YII. 

What,  my  dear  Lady  Disdain !     Are  you  yet  living  ?  " 

Much  Ado  About  Nothing. 

S^HILIP,  engrossed  by  this  masterly  work  of  art,  did 
not  hear  a  step  on  the  soft  turf. 

"  When  you  have  quite  finished  your  inspection, 
sir,  I  will  trouble  you  for  my  sketch-book/''  said  a 
voice  behind  him  dryly,  and  with  a  sarcastic  inflection  that 
was  unmistakable. 

In  an  instant  he  threw  away  his  cigar,  sprang  to  his 
feet,  turned,  took  off  his  hat,  and  saw  what  he  never  in 
after  years  forgot.  A  slight  graceful  figure  in  soft  brown, 
standing  erect  before  him,  with  a  wide  flat  basket  filled  with 
wild-flowers,  ferns,  and  mosses.  Beneath  a  brown  shade-hat, 
pushed  back  from  the  face,  wavy  fair  hair,  a  pale  olive  skin, 
great  dark  eyes  looking  coldly  at  him,  and  a  mouth  at  that 
moment  set  haughtily  in  a  manner  that  boded  no  good. 
Politely  and  inquiringly  he  said,  — 
"  Miss  Doane  ?  " 

She  was  a  truthful  girl,  but  her  good  angel  forsook  her,  and 
she  told  a  white  lie. 


ONE     SUMMER.  87 

"  You  have  the  advantage  of  me,  sir." 

She  could  not  swear,  possibly,  that  his  name  was  Ogden, 
but  she  had  every  reason  to  think  that  it  was.  Did  not  that 
discolored  cheek  prove  his  identity  ?  He  -was  not  appalled 
by  her  icy  demeanor,  which  involuntarily  reminded  him  of  the 
"  hotty  Lady  I-mer-gin,"  and,  restraining  a  smile  which  he 
felt  would  not  be  well  received  by  this  severely  statuescpie 
young  lady,  he  replied, — 

"Pardon  me.  The  advantage  was  certainly  yours  before. 
It  is  yours  now.  It  must  of  necessity  always  remain  with 
you." 

Miss  Doane  in  her  varied  reading  had  never  met  with  the 
Lady  Imogen,  whom  she  was  supposed  to  resemble,  and  she 
misinterpreted  the  cause  of  the  faint  smile  upon  Mr.  Ogden's 
lips.  Neither  his  cordial  voice,  nor  his  genial  allusion  to 
their  first  meeting,  nor  the  eminently  conciliatory  character  of 
his  remark,  found  favor  with  her.  Without  replying,  without 
indeed  glancing  at  him,  she  stooped,  took  from  the  rock  a 
small  volume  which  had  been  concealed  by  the  sketch-book, 
and  which,  carefully  lifting  her  violets  and  ferns,  she  placed 
in  her  basket.  She  then  passed  by  him  for  her  umbrella. 
Her  movements  were  deliberate,  and,  it  was  evident,  prepara- 
tory to  departure. 

Philip  realized  that  she  was  going  because  he  had  come. 
His  intentions  in  visiting  her  favorite  haunt  were,  as  has  been 
shown,  most  amicable.  The  weapon  that  had  wounded  him 
he  had  surveyed  in  a  forgiving,  even  in  a  quizzical  spirit. 
The  caricature,  so  clear  an  exponent  of  Miss  Dearie's  impres- 
sion of  him,  he  had  examined  with  imperturbable  good-nature, 


55  ONE     SUMMER. 

admiring  the  humorous  talent  it  displayed,  and  sympathizing 
with  the  incensed  artist.  "  I  do  not  wonder  that  she  thought 
me  a  prig/'  was  his  amiable  comment  when  studying  the  un- 
flattering sketches.  But  her  continued  silence,  under  the  cir- 
cumstances aggressive  in  itself,  her  indescribable  frigidity,  and 
her  affectation  of  ignoring  his  presence,  were  enough  to  irri- 
tate the  meekest  man.  The  genial  look  faded  from  his  face. 
And  she  quite  exhausted  his  patience  when  she  finally  said  in 
an  exasperatingly  indifferent  way,  standing  before  him  and 
looking,  not  at  him,  but  with  still  eyelids  and  a  fixed  gaze  far 
beyond  him  down  upon  the  river,  — 

"  Will  you  have  the  kindness  to  give  me  my  book  ?  " 

He  had  unconsciously  retained  it. 

With  more  serious  apologies,  he  felt  that  to  ask  her  pardon 
for  examining  her  sketches  might  not  be  superfluous.  He 
thought  also  of  Tom's  letter,  and  of  his  own  object  iu  seeking 
her,  an  honest  desire  to  atone  so  far  as  possible  for  the  past 
by  the  proffer  of  unlimited  service  in  future.  But  her  hauteur 
forbade  the  expression  of  his  sentiments.  It  seemed  that  an 
allusion  to  things  of  the  past  was  precisely  what  she  wished  to 
avoid. 

"  So  be  it,  then.  A  man  cannot  talk  to  a  statue  cut  in  ala- 
baster. Any  reference  to  Tom  is  out  of  the  question.  She 
scorns  to  conceal  that  I  am  repugnant  to  her.  Having 
no  merits  of  my  own,  I  have  no  desire  to  prop  myself  up 
with  Otis's.  The  briefer  the  interview  the  better  for  both 
parties  !  " 

Such  were  his  hasty  reflections  as  she  demanded  her  prop- 
erty.    For  one  moment  he  looked  steadily  at  her,  then  placed 


ONE     SUMMER.  89 

the  book  in  her  hand,  and  in  a  tone  quite  as  cold  as  her  own, 
said  simply,  — 

"It  is  my  place,  Miss  Doane,  not  yours,  to  withdraw/' 
Lifting  his  hat  with  grave  courtesy,  he  walked  rapidly  away 
and  soon  disappeared  among  the  trees. 

So  they  met  again,  and  so  they  parted. 

Had  she  received  him  with  that  gentle  effusion  and  highly 
flattering  manner  which  most  men  esteem  "  an  excellent  thing 
in  woman,"  had  she  tenderly  sympathized  with  his  misfortune, 
deprecatingly  explained  why  she  was  out  in  the  storm  that 
night,  disarmed  him  with  an  appealing  look  from  under  her 
long  lashes,  and  a  "  Was  it  so  very  naughty  ?  "  in  an  infan- 
tine, confiding  tone,  she  might  have  impressed  him  with  the 
idea  that  she  was  the  sweetest,  most  artless  girl  in  existence ; 
that  wandering  about  alone  dark,  stormy  nights  was,  in  her,  a 
praiseworthy  act,  and  destroying  people's  visual  organs  a  fas- 
cinating accomplishment.  Results  equally  astounding  have 
been  attained  by  young  women  less  clever  than  Leigh  Doane, 
with  men  quite  as  sensible  as  Philip  Ogclen.  But  she  was 
twenty,  and  well  grown,  and  she  did  not  know  how  to  assume 
ways  which  are,  as  was  Richard  III.,  "  too  childish-foolish  for 
this  world."  Her  cleverness  did  not  lie  in  a  knowledge  of 
such  tactics.  She  had  not  studied  them,  nor  did  she,  as  do 
some  women,  know  them  intuitively.  There  was,  however, 
another,  a  medium  course,  and  one  that  would  have  been  in 
accordance  with  her  nature.  She  could  have  been  frank  and 
sufficiently  gracious.  She  might  have  accepted  his  apologies 
and  made  her  own.  Though  disliking  him,  she  could  at  least 
have  been  civil.     For  reasons  best  known  to  herself,  she  was 


90  ONE     SUMMER. 

not.  And  these  two,  who  might  have  engaged  in  a  bland 
conversation  upon  topics  of  mutual  interest,  —  the  weather, 
the  scenery,  why  Tom  did  not  come,  why  Mr.  Ogden  had, 
how  queer  Miss  Phipps  was,  and  what  rare  specimens  of  hu- 
manity were  revealed  in  the  Holbrook  family,  —  lost  their 
opportunity.  One  was  left  alone.  The  other,  having  aban- 
doned the  regular  path,  was  going  through  the  woods  with 
great  strides,  accelerated  by  indignation,  trampling  over  the 
underbrush,  and  pushing  away  low  branches  with  marked 
energy.  His  course,  as  he  had  anticipated,  brought  him 
out  at  a  point  in  the  main  road  not  far  from  the  Romney 
bridge,  and  presently  its  loose  planks  were  rattling  beneath 
his  tread.  He  crossed  it,  and  in  a  long  ramble  on  the 
east  side  of  the  river  walked  off  his  vexation,  and  coolly  de- 
cided that  Miss  Doane  and  her  vagaries  were  of  small  conse- 
quence. 

He  had  been  prepared  to  blame  himself  wholly,  her  not  at 
all ;  but  her  ungracious  reception  had  led  him  to  think  that 
the  scales  might  be  more  evenly  balanced,  that  his  week  of  in- 
convenience and  pain,  his  hearty  desire  to  make  reparation  for 
his  blundering,  might  justly  have  some  weight  in  his  favor. 
As  a  gentleman,  he  must  always  regret  having  caused  her  so 
much  discomfort  and  annoyance ;  but,  since  she  had  not  even 
allowed  him  the  satisfaction  of  calling  himself  a  brute,  since 
she  had  rendered  expiation  impossible,  he  washed  his  hands  of 
the  whole  matter.  He  had  done  his  part.  Angels  could  do 
no  more. 

Edgecomb  air  was  as  healthful,  Edgecomb  waters  afforded 
as  tine  facilities  for  rowing,  as  before  the  advent  of  this  Miss 


ONE     SUMMER.  91 

Doane,  who  was,  by  the  way,  a  charmingly  agreeable  person 
to  take  out  in  his  wherry.  Should  the  boat  upset,  she  would 
float  about  in  the  water  like  any  other  iceberg.  His  feeling 
towards  her  gradually  merged  into  quiet  disapproval.  What 
he  knew  of  her  he  did  not  admire,  except,  of  course,  her  beauty. 
That,  he  admitted,  was  of  a  rare  order.  It  was  not  the  style 
he  liked  best.  It  had  not  the  sweet,  winning  ever-varying 
expression  that  he  preferred.  But  in  an  artistic  sense  simply, 
Miss  Doane's  face  was  the  most  beautiful  he  had  ever  seen. 
And  whether  it  was  on  account  of  its  intrinsic  beauty,  or 
because  he  had  not  before  noticed  a  lovely  girl  in  Edge- 
comb,  or  because  she  was  the  first  woman  who  had  rendered 
it  quite  evident  to  him  that  in  her  opinion  he  was  intolerably 
disagreeable,  it  haunted  him.  In  spite  of  what  he  assured 
himself  was  pure  indifference  to  her,  like  a  familiar  picture 
he  could  see,  well  defined  before  him,  the  background  of 
trees,  the  dull  skies,  the  soft  brown  of  her  dress,  the  great 
basket  laden  with  cool  green  things  from  the  woods,  the  long 
vines  trailing  over  its  edge,  and,  most  distinct  of  all,  the  fair 
young  face,  so  fresh  hi  its  coloring,  so  inflexible  in  its  frozen 
repose. 

What  can  she  want  of  violets  ?  It  was  winsome  Persephone 
who  gathered  flowers  on  trie  meadow,  —  not  an  ice-maiden 
like  this.  Even  Bappacini's  daughter,  nourished  upon  poison, 
and  withering  flowers  with  her  fatal  breath,  was  less  chilling 
and  unlovely  in  manner. 

Meanwhile  the  forbidding,  repellent,  self-poised  creature  sat 
in  a  dejected  heap  on  the  grass,  —  elbows  on  the  rock,  face  on 
her  hands,  sad  eyes  looking  off  absently  across  the  water  at 


92 


ONE     SUMMER. 


Birch  Point.  Already  the  iceberg,  humanized,  was  suffering 
the  cruel  pangs  of  remorse.  She  had  been  inexcusably  rude 
to  Mr.  Ogden,  and  she  liked  neither  him  nor  herself  any  the 
better  for  that. 

"  O  dear,  I  wish  they  would  come  !  "  she  sighed. 


Wm 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

"  So  we  met 
In  this  old  sleepy  town,  at  unaware, 
The  man  and  I."  —  Browsing. 

Edgecomb,  July  15,  18 — . 
*^EAB,    TOM    AND    DEAREST  BESSIE,  — Let   us 
play  "  Consequences."     I  '11  begin. 

Miss  Laura  Leigh  Doane  and  Mr.  Philip  Ogclen 
^M.  met  in  Edgecomb,  on  a  street-corner,  a  dark,  stormy 
night,  to  the  physical  distress  of  one  and  the  mental  agony  of  the 
other. 

He  Said,  — 

"  My  good  woman,  your  insignificant  umbrella  has  had  the  pre- 
sumption to  put  out  my  majestic  eye.  Shall  I  graciously  allow  you 
the  supreme  honor  of  trudging  through  two  miles  of  mud  with 
me  .J 

She  Said,  — 

(meekly,  but  with  rage,  hate,  rebellion,  and  various  other  deadly 
sins  warring  in  her  heart,)  — 
"  Yes,  sir." 

The  "World  Said,  — 

for  would  have  said,  had  it  known  anything  about  it,  what  it  has 
ever  said  since  Adam  introduced  the  custom  of  accusing  "  the 
woman,")  — 

"  She  had  onlv  herself  to  blame." 


94  ONESUMMER. 

The  Consequences  Were  :  — 

Mr.  Ogden  retired  from  the  world  for  a  season,  and  Miss  Doane 
indulged  in  hatred,  malice,  and  all  uncharitableness.  She  never, 
never  wished  to  meet  him  again.  And  when  at  last  he  loomed  up 
suddenly  before  her,  she  was  un pardonably  rude  and  disagreeable  ; 
yet  not  so  utterly  lost  to  every  semblance  of  good  feeling  that  she 
could  thus  ill-treat  a  friend  of  Tom  without  repenting  in  sackcloth 
and  ashes,  and  longing  for  her  dear  people  to  come  and  brush 
away  her  cobwebs. 

Bessie,  dear,  this  is  true,  or  nearly  so,  and  it  is  what  you  have 
thought  only  my  nonsense  when  I  have  just  touched  upon  it  or 
fluttered  over  it  in  my  letters.  I  ought  to  have  told  you  before, 
but  it  did  seem  too  ridiculous  to  write.  Indeed,  I  will  reserve 
the  details  of  my  escapade  until  I  can  talk  with  you  ;  but  I  did  go 
out  in  the  rain.  I  did  run  against  him.  I  did  hurt  him.  And  he 
thought  I  was  a  nobody,  and  coolly  requested  me  to  tie  a  bandage 
over  his  eyes  and  take  him  home,  which  I  did,  to  my  own  profound 
amazement.  He  thanked  me,  and  feed  me  well.  (And  when  you 
come,  Tom,  you  must  give  the  odious  creature  his  ill-timed  offer- 
ing.) This  was  the  evening  of  the  day  you  did  not  come.  You 
cannot  understand  it,  nor  can  I ;  but  it  all  happened.  I  went  for 
a  book,  you  see,  and  everything  worked  against  me,  —  even  the 
powers  of  the  air,  —  and  it  was  all  so  very  uncomfortable  for  me 
afterwards,  I  could  not  help  attributing  it  to  Mr.  Ogden;  and  that 
was  why  I  told  you,  Tom,  not  to  send  him  to  see  me. 

I  have  reversed  the  usual  order  of  things.  First  I  made  war, 
then  I  declared  it.  I  have  been  detestable;  but,  Tom,  what  you 
can  find  to  admire  in  that  man  is  beyond  my  feeble  compre- 
hension. 

He  was  confined  to  his  room  a  week  or  more,  so  my  little  Jim- 


ONE     SUMMER.  95 

mie-boy  reported.  During  that  time  I  became  quite  softened.  I 
could  not  like  his  Grand  Mogul  ways,  but  I  was  so  sorry,  so  very, 
verv  sorry  that  I  had  actually  hurt  him,  and  that  he  was  suffering 
some  pain,  no  doubt,  and  much  loneliness,  and  all  through  my 
evil-doings.  Then  came  your  last  letters  insisting  earnestly  upon 
my  knowing  him,  telling  me  that  he  was  such  an  "  uncommonly 
good  fellow  "  (Tom,  if  he  's  ':  uncommonly  good,"  commonly  good 
is  more  to  my  taste),  and  assuring  me  that  you  would  feel  much 
relieved  about  me  if  so  tine,  high-toned,  honorable,  efficient,  alto- 
gether charming  and  admirable  individual  would  deign  to  keep 
himself  informed  of  my  movements,  and  would  telegraph  to  you  in 
case  I  should  fall  from  a  rock  and  break  my  neck,  or  lean  too  hard 
upon  the  railing  of  the  dear  dilapidated  old  bridge.  Perhaps  I 
did  not  fully  appreciate  the  practical  utility  of  this  plan  ;  but  since 
you  really  wished  me  to  know  him,  and  especially  since  you  an- 
nounced that  you  had  written  to  him  desiring  him,  formally,  to  call 
upon  me,  I  grew  decently  amiable.  I  reasoned  with  myself.  I 
decided  to  meet  him  frankly,  to  express  my  regret  for  the  accident, 
to  treat  the  matter  of  my  performing  escort-duty  for  him  as  of  no 
consequence  at  all,  in  short,  to  be  very  good  during  his  visit,  which 
I  naturally  thought  would  take  place  here,  at  the  house  ;  and  after- 
wards I  would  see  him  as  little  as  possible,  I  determined. 

I  was  prepared  to  do  all  that  could  be  expected  of  me  ;  to  sit 
like  a  model  from  a  Book  of  Decorum,  with  my  reluctant  vertebra? 
leaning  against  one  of  Phipps's  perpendicular  chair-backs  ;  to  con- 
verse as  well  as  I  knew  how  upon  any  topic  which  might  prove 
agreeable  to  my  guest.  But  I  was  not  —  I  was  not  prepared  for 
the  sight  that  met  my  eyes  yesterday  at  the  fort. 

I  had  been  in  the  woods  for  flowers,  and  returning  to  my  favorite 
resting-place  saw  a  gentleman — Mr.  Ogden,  I  knew  instinctively 
—  intently  regarding  my  sketch-book.     His  back  was  turned,  so 


9^  ONE     SUMMER. 

that  I  could  not  see  his  face,  but  I  knew  he  was  laughing,  for  his 
shoulders  fairly  shook.  Indeed,  I  have  the  impression  that  lie 
must  have  shouted  over  my  designs,  for  I  heard  something  of  the 
kind  when  I  was  in  among  the  trees.  I  will  do  him  the  justice  to 
say  that  the  book  was  lying  open  when  he  found  it.  And,  Bessie, 
fancy  at  what  !  —  (the  influences,  as  the  mediums  say,  must  have 
been  sadly  against  me  that  morning.)  —  at  some  absurd  sketches 
illustrative  of  our  first  meeting.  I  did  them  the  day  after  the  accident, 
and  he  was  as  ridiculous  as  I  could  make  him.  It  was  for  your  amuse- 
ment, not  his.  He  had  no  right  to  laugh  !  Yesterday  my  work 
was  only  an  innocent,  amiable  little  sketch  of  Birch  Point,  a  fascinat- 
ing subject  I  am  constantly  attempting.  Why  did  he  not  see  that 
instead  ?  Why  did  the  leaves  open  to  the  malicious,  naughty  carica- 
tures I  had  almost  forgotten  ?  Why  did  I  not  close  the  book  ?  I 
usually  do.  Because  the  man  is  my  evil  genius.  Before  he  ap- 
pears I  do  some  unfortunate,  unnatural  thing.  When  I  am  with 
him  I  am  completely  transformed.  I  do  not  recognize  myself. 
Scold  me,  Tom,  as  much  as  you  like.  I  deserve  it,  but  if  you  love 
me,  come  down  and  keep  him  away. 

Where  was  I?  O, — just  coming  from  the  woods.  Bessie,  I 
am  sorry,  too  sorry  for  what  I  did.  I  do  not  seek  to  excuse  the 
inexcusable.  If  patient  Griselda's  liege  lord  —  tyrannical  old 
Turk  that  he  was  !  —  had  chosen  to  swing  her  about  by  the  hair  of 
her  head  as  a  light  exercise  and  pastime,  I  presume,  from  all  ac- 
counts, the  poor  thing,  for  whom  I  never  had  the  faintest  spark  of 
admiration,  woidd  have  meekly  borne  it,  and  sweetly  encouraged 
him  in  it,  so  long  as  there  was  a  hair  left  for  him  to  grasp ;  but  I 
am  not  sure  that  even  she  would  have  seen  a  perfect  stranger  ex- 
amining at  his  leisure  her  own  private  property,  without  making  a 
mild  protest,  and  to  me  the  sight  was  intolerably  provoking. 

There  he  sat  on  my  rock,  surrounded,  like  a  Choctaw  chieftain, 


ONE     SUMMER.  97 

with  trophies  of  victory.  My  Idyls  at  his  right.  My  umbrella 
leaning  against  the  rock  at  his  left.  My  sketch-book  open  in  his 
hands.  It  was  too  much.  The  tide  of  memory  rushed  over  me. 
I  was  again  seized  by  the  intense  unreasoning  dislike  I  had  felt  for 
him.  Was  I  always  to  appear  at  a  disadvantage  before  him?  I 
am  ashamed  to  tell  you  how  disagreeably  I  advanced  and  demanded 
my  book.  I  wickedly  hoped  he  would  be  confused.  He  never 
dreamed  of  such  a  thing.  He  is  always  so  unpleasantly  "  superior." 
He  rose  to  meet  me  with  a  cordial  expression,  as  if  I  were  an 
old  and  valued  friend.  I  determined  to  ruffle  that  beautiful  com- 
posure. I  did  not  know  I  could  be  so  detestable ;  but  a  latent  talent 
of  that  description,  I  suppose,  like  courage  "  mounteth  with  occa- 
sion." By  my  manner,  I  said  as  plainly  as  by  words,  "  Do  not 
apologize.  Do  not  introduce  yourself.  Do  not  speak.  You  are 
odious.     I  am  going." 

I  pretended  not  to  look  at  him,  but  I  saw  perfectly  well  his 
expression  changing  from  smiling  ease  to  gravity,  severity,  as  it 
dawned  upon  him  that  my  inimical  bearing  was  with  malice  pre- 
pense. He  gave  me  one  long,  steady  look  as  if  to  discover  to 
what  species  of  created  beings  I  belonged,  then  with  a  word  left 
me.  Your  Mr.  Ogden  has  quick  perceptions,  Tom.  Any  man  of 
sense  would  have  understood  me ;  but  I  think  some  men  would 
have  insisted  upon  speaking. 

And,  after  all,  he  had  the  best  of  it.  He  was  still  "  superior." 
He  went  through  the  words,  it  is  true,  with  great  rapidity,  sugges- 
tive, it  may  be,  of  inward  wrath,  but  he  made  his  exit  from  this 
dramatic  scene  with  calmness,  grace,  and  dignity.  He  did  not  for- 
get that  an  impressive  deportment  is  always  the  best  policy.  His 
final  remark  was  a  rebuke  in  its  cool  civility,  for  you  see  I  was  cool 
incivility  personified.  He  meant  to  conduct  himself  as  irreproach- 
ably as  a  Bayard,  whatever  caprice  my  waywardness  might  develop, 


98 


ONE     SUMMER. 


and  I  was  capricious  and  unreasonable  as  a  child  with  a  grown-up 
capacity  for  being  disagreeable.  He  was  right,  I  was  wrong. 
My  head  tells  me  this,  while  my  heart  rises  up  in  wrath  against 
him.  How  sorry  you  will  both  be  !  Would  you  believe  it  ?  I 
tried  not  to  care  when  I  saw  that  great  purplish  mark  in  his  cheek. 
I  could  not  help  feeling  distressed,  though  I  endeavored  to  look  as 
stony  as  a  sphinx. 

If  it  were  not  for  him,  Edgecomb  would  be  Paradise.  But  I 
suppose  an  earthly  one  must  always  have  a  serpent,  and  every  little 
Miss  Muffit,  a  great  black  spider  to  come  in  the  way.  He  is  the 
spider  that  drives  me  from  my  curds  and  whey.  Won't  somebody 
have  the  kindness  to  step  on  him  ? 

These  long,  quiet  days  here  are  too  beautiful.  I  find  some 
lovely  spot  and  read  a  little,  draw  a  little,  dream  a  little,  and  think 
that  you  will  be  here  soon  to  intensify  my  happiness  ;  and  the 
trees  and  hills  and  waters  are  so  noble,  "  the  birds  and  the 
flowers  are  so  kind,"  that  it  all  seems  like  an  enchanted  life,  until 
suddenly  I  remember  my  misdeeds,  and  the  beautiful  illusion  is 
destroyed.  I  cannot  be  happy  here  any  more.  Jimmie  is  my 
oidy  human  comfort.  He  is,  I  tell  him,  a  rough  diamond, 
and  hereafter  I  shall  spell  his  name  with  a  G.  He  is  not, 
perhaps,  "  of  purest  ray  serene,"  still  he  is  precious  and 
sparkling,  though  unpolished,  and  he  shall  be  Gem,  not  Jim. 
Dear  child !  He  seems  to  have  the  most  incomprehensible  fancy 
for  me.  He  left  a  handful  of  columbines  with  Miss  Phipps  for  me, 
long  before  I  was  awake  one  morning  ;  and  he  went  ever  so  many 
miles  for  a  pretty  species  of  fern  which  he  had  heard  me  say  I  was 
sorry  I  could  not  find  in  this  vicinity.  He  is  very  bright,  merry, 
and  amusing,  and  has  a  loving  heart  and  an  appreciative  nature ; 
though  he  seemed  to  me  in  the  first  place  nothing  more  than  a 
comical,  impudent  little  ragamuffin.     Now  I  perceive  respect  for 


ONE     SUMMER.  99 

me  and  affection  shining  out  through  the  outward  roughness,  — 
the  marvellous  language  and  want  of  training. 

When  do  you  think  you  will  come  ?  If  you  do  not  intend  to 
start  in  a  day  or  two,  may  n't  I,  please  may  I  not,  go  home  ?  I 
could  act  as  escort  for  you,  Bessie,  and  bring  you  down  quite  as 
well  as  Tom  can,  if  he  would  only  think  so  ;  and  it  would  be  so 
much  better  than  staying  here,  and  dreading  to  stir  for  fear  of 
meeting  Mr.  Ogden,  and  doing  or  saying  some  fatal  thing  which  it 
never  entered  my  head  to  do  or  say  before. 

"  Up  the  airy  mountain, 
Down  the  rushy  glen, 
"We  dare  na  go  a-huntm', 
For  fear  of —  "  P.  Ogden. 

I  wish  he  would  go  away  !  I  am  penitent,  very  penitent,  but  I 
never  wish  to  see  him  again.     Literally, 

"  Every  prospect  pleases,  and  only  man  is  vile." 

Come  to  me,  or  let  me  go  to  you,  is  the  prayer  of 
Your  loving 

Leigh. 


CHAPTER    IX. 

"  Still  harping." 

Hamlet. 

ISS  LEIGH,  we  got  this  in  a  field  to  Birch  Point. 
Yer  don't  want  it,  do  yer  ?     Yer  would  n't  like 
it,  would  yer  ?     Yer  could  n't  stick  it  in  yer  hat, 
could  yer  ?     Say  !  " 
Miss   Doane  took  the  long  black  feather  from   the  boy's 
hand,  and  smiled  at  his  eagerness. 

"  It  is  very  pretty,  Gem.     What  is  it  ?  " 
"  A  eagle's." 

"  An  eagle's,  really  ?  'Asa  feather  is  wafted  downward 
from  an  eagle  in  his  flight,'  "  she  repeated  dreamily,  standing 
in  the  open  doorway  and  glancing  far  up  above  the  elm-tops, 
as  if  she  could  see  the  slender  thing  descending  through  the 
air.  Then,  to  the  boy  :  "  Certainly,  I  would  like  it,  Gem,  and 
thank  you  very  much.  I  never  saw  one  before.  How  very 
glossy  it  is,  and  even  as  if  its  edge  were  cut  with  a  knife  !  " 

"  I  s'pose  yer  don't  want  to  put  it  in  yer  hat,  do  yer  ?  " 
said  Gem,  with  pleased,  smiling  eyes,  while  his  mouth  twitched 
violently  in  his  effort  to  look  indifferent. 


ONE     SUMMER. 


IOI 


"  Who  was  it  who  wore  an  eagle's  plume  ?     Rob  Roy  ? 
Far  better  it  would  suit  a  brave  Highland  chieftain  than  a 

a    commonplace   young   woman 
like  me.      But   since  the  noble 


bird  will  not  sus- 
pect to  what  base 
use  we  have  put 
'  it,  I  ;11  see  what 
can  be  done  to 
please  you,  my 
dear/' 

She     ran     up 
stairs     and      re- 
turned in  a  mo- 
ment with  a  small 
black  hat  and  her  work-basket,  and,  seated  in  the  doorway, 
with  Jimmie  on  a  lower  step,  she  tried  the  effect  of  his  last 
offering  at  her  shrine. 


102  ONE     SUMMER. 

"  Gem,  it 's  too  long.  I  shall  look  as  tall  as  Mrs.  Giantess 
Blunderbore." 

"  Let 's  cut  it," 

"  It  would  be  a  pity  to  do  that,  unless  I  could  use  both 
parts.  I  do  not  like  to  throw  away  what  a  friend  brings  me. 
It  is  neither  pleasant  nor  polite,  is  it,  Gem  ?  All,  I  know  ! 
The  tip  I  will  put  in  my  hat,  quietly,  you  see,  with  an  unob- 
trusive, deprecating  expression,  so  any  mighty  eagle  soaring 
about  will  not  spy  it  and  feel  insulted,  and  pounce  down  and 
peck  my  eyes  out ;  and  the  other  I  will  make  into  a  most 
beautiful  quill  pen.  However  it  may  write,  the  association  of 
ideas  Will  be  very  high-toned  indeed.  A  great,  glorious  eagle, 
—  how  much  more  inspiring  his  quill  ought  to  be  than  that  of 
a  common  goose  !  There,  Gem,  how  is  that  ?  "  And  she  put 
on  the  hat,  with  the  little  black  tip  standing  up  jauntily  behind 
some  bows.  "  Is  it  about  right  ?  Then  I  '11  fasten  it."  And 
off  came  the  hat, 

"  I  told  him  yer  'd  like  it.  I  said  yer  'd  put  it  in  yer  hat, 
and  uoav  yer  have,  have  n't  yer  ?  "  said  Jimmie,  ecstatically. 

Miss  Doane  bent  her  face  over  her  work. 

"  Told  whom,  Gem  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Ogden.  He  picked  it  up  an'  was  a-goin'  to  drop  it 
over  the  bank,  an'  I  said  I  wanted  it  for  you." 

Miss  Doane  colored  furiously.  It  would  be  too  childish 
not  to  wear  it  now ;  but  how  she  did  want  to  pull  it  out ! 
After  all,  she  reflected,  it  had  really  nothing  to  do  with  Mr. 
Ogden.  She  would  wear  it,  and  only  remember  little  Gem's 
kindness. 

"  He 's  tip-top,  Miss  Leigh.  You  an'  him  are  the  best  fellers 
I  ever  see." 


ONE     SUMMER.  103 

"  Gem,"  said  the  girl,  gravely,  "  I  'm  not  a  feller,  and  you 
should  say  saw  instead  of  see." 

Unabashed,  Gem  continued,  — 

"  Mr.  Ogden,  he  got  off  a  mighty  queer  yarn  yesterday  when 
I  told  him  I  knowed  yer  'd  like  the  leather  cos  yer  allers  liked 
the  things  I  had  brung.  He  thought  as  how  yer  would  n't 
want  it,  yer  know,  and  says  he  —  " 

"  Knew,  not  knowed,  and  brought,  not  brung,"  said  Miss 
Doane,  oracularly. 

The  importance  of  improving  Jim's  English  was  at  cer- 
tain moments  singularly  urgent.  The  tide  of  her  criticism, 
however,  seemed  to  ebb  and  flow  in  a  spasmodic,  eccentric 
manner. 

Sometimes  he  would  chatter  by  the  hour  with  never  a  word 
of  correction  from  her. 

"  Yes  'm,"  said  Gem,  dutifully.  "  Says  he,  '  Did  yer  ever 
read  about  — '  'bout  a  —  wait  an'  I  Tl  tell  yer  —  it  was  real 
funny  —  says  he  —  " 

"  Gem,  how  would  you  like  to  ramble  off  somewhere  with 
me  ?  This  is  too  fine  a  morning  to  waste  in  the  house,  or  even 
out  here  on  the  steps.  We  '11  have  a  lovely  outing,  you  and  I  ; 
and  if  Miss  Phipps  will  give  us  some  lunch,  we  '11  go  off  for 
the  day.     Would  you  like  it  ?  " 

"  Would  n't  I  though  ?  » 

"  Very  well ;  wait  till  I  get  my  shawl  and  pack  a  basket. 
A.  small  and  select  picnic  like  this  will  be  charming.  You 
shall  go  where  you  like.  My  fate  is  in  your  hands.  I  want 
to  see  an  entirely  new  spot." 

"  All  right,"  said  Gem,  cheerily.     "  I  guess  I  know  what 


104  ONE     SUMMER. 

will  hit  your  case.  Him  an'  me  was  down  there,  an*  he  thought 
as  how  it  was  a  pooty  likely  sort  of  a  place.     Says  he  —  " 

"  Excuse  me,  Gem,  but  I  must  go  and  beg  Miss  Phipps  for 
some  things  for  our  basket."  And  Leigh  sprang  up  quickly 
and  vanished  through  an  inner  door. 

Gem  sat  down  on  the  steps,  scowled,  and  thought  vigorously. 
Presently  he  shouted,  "  I  say  !  Miss  Leigh  !  "  She  appeared 
at  the  dining-room  door.  As  well  hope  to  stem  a  torrent  with 
a  straw  as  to  interpose  such  trifles  as  grammatical  errors  and 
lunch-baskets  in  the  way  of  Gem's  inevitable  recital. 

"  Well,  dear,"  she  said  patiently.  Perhaps  after  the  child 
had  freed  his  mind  he  would  be  willing  to  turn  his  attention  in 
some  other  direction. 

"  Kim-eleon  was  the  word.  Kimeleon.  Says  he,  '  Did  yer 
ever  read  about  a  kimeleon  ? '  Says  I,  '  No/  Saj's  he,  '  It  's 
a  curious  animal,  an'  you  may  look  in  my  dictionary  for  it 
when  we  go  home,  an'  then  you  '11  know  another  fack  in  nat- 
eral  history,  my  boy.'  Says  I,  '  Is  it  like  a  eagle  ? '  Says  he, 
'  Not  in  the  least.  It  is  a  animal  that  changes  its  color  more 
or  less  with  the  color  of  objects  about  it,  an'  with  its  temper 
when  disturbed.'  He  said  it  to  me  twice,  an'  I  saw  it  in  his 
big  dictionary  afterwards,  an'  I  learned  the  spellin'  an'  the 
meanin'.     There  was  a  plaguy  long  word  —  " 

"Gem,"  said  Leigh,  reprovingly. 

"  Well,  awful  long,  then.  It  was  pre-hen-sile.  Its  tail  is 
prehensile.  That  means  it  can  hang  on  to  things  like  blazes. 
Mr.  Ogden  said  that  fack  did  n't  interest  him  pertickerly. 
What  he  liked  to  meditate  upon  was,  that  its  color  varied  as 
its  temper  was  disturbed.     I  was  a-studyin'  of  it  out  loud  up 


ONE     SUMMER.  105 

in  his  room,  ycr  know,  anJ  be  was  a  smoking  an'  he  larfed  an' 
larfed.     He  said  some  folks  was  like  the  kimeleon." 

Miss  Doane  bit  her  lip,  stood  very  straight,  and  waited  for 
the  boy  to  communicate  his  newly  acquired  knowledge. 

"  Yes,  dear ;  that  is  very  interesting.  Perhaps  I  may  be 
able  some  time  to  give  you  equally  valuable  information.  At 
present  our  basket  is  the  more  important  topic.  If  you  and  I 
are  hungry,  we  won't  feel  like  improving  our  minds,  will  we, 
Gem  ?  You  may  come  in,  if  you  like,  and  help  me.  Here  I 
am  like  Charlotte,  cutting  bread  and  butter." 

"  Charlotte  who  ?  " 

"  Charlotte  —  I  'm  sure  I  do  not  know  what  her  other 
name  was,  and  it  does  not  matter,  my  dear;  for  her  story 
would  make  you  neither  so  merry  as  that  of  Mrs.  Giantess 
Blunderbore,  nor  so  wise  as  the  dictionary  definition  of  a  cha- 
meleon, so  I  shall  not  tell  it  to  you,  Jimmie-boy." 

"Do  yer  want  that  hunk  0'  meat,  an'  them  cookies  an' 
things  in  ?  " 

"  Child  !  Child  !  Xot  without  a  napkin.  Things  one  eats 
should  look  pretty.  There,  —  this  is  the  way.  First  the  nap- 
kin, then  the  meat,  sliced  thin,  so,  between  two  plates.  Why, 
Gem,  could  you  really  eat  it,  dumped  in  your  way  ?  " 

"  Course,  I  could.  What  'a  the  use  0'  yer  napkins  ?  Yer 
can't  eat  'em." 

"  Gem,  you  are  an  untutored  little  savage.  Why,  do  you 
know  I  am  sometimes  very  much  ashamed  to  eat  at  all,  right 
in  the  face  and  eyes  of  a  beautiful  landscape  ?  It  seems  so 
presuming,  such  a  desecration.  But  there 's  something  in  the 
air  here  that  gives   one  an  unconscionable   appetite.  —  Miss 


106  ONE     SUMMER. 

Phipps,  you  are  exceedingly  kind .  The  cream  will  be  very 
acceptable.  —  Gem,  run  out  and  get  me  a  little  bunch  of  sweet- 
peas.  We  cannot  eat  them,  but  the  bit  of  bright  shall  serve 
to  beautify  our  feast,  and  to  elevate  your  ideas,  you  benighted 
boy.  — I  may  have  them,  may  I  not,  Miss  Phipps  ?  Nothing 
more,  thank  you." 

They  started  off  merrily.  Miss  Phipps  gave  a  shrill  parting 
charge  from  the  door  :  — 

"  You  be  keerful  about  bringin'  back  them  things,  will  yer  ?  " 

"  0,  certainly  !  "  replied  Leigh,  smilingly.  "  We  will  take 
excellent  care  of  everything.  And/'  turning  to  Jim,  "you 
are  going  to  take  care  of  me,  are  you  not  ?  Do  you  know, 
Gem,  you  should  offer  to  take  my  shawl  and  the  books  and 
the  umbrella,  as  well  as  the  basket.  I  should  not  think  of 
allowing  you  to  carry  them  all,  of  course,  but  the  offer  ought 
in  propriety  to  be  made.  The  shawl,  you  see,  hangs  easily 
over  my  shoulder,  the  umbrella  I  wish  to  use ;  you  and  I  to- 
gether can  swing  the  basket  as  Jack  and  Jill  did  the  pail  when 
they  went  up  the  hill ;  and  the  strap,  if  you  please,  you  may 
take  in  your  other  hand.  Still,  Gem,  you  must  offer  to  carry 
everything/'' 

"  What  for  ?  "  said  the  matter-of-fact  Jimmie.  "  Jest  as 
lief  lug  'em  all  as  not,  but  I  ain't  got  but  two  hands,  an'  ef 
yer  've  fixed  things  'bout  as  yer  want  'em,  what 's  the  use  of 
talkin'?" 

"  Gem,  Gem,  you  have  yet  to  learn  the  use  of  the  beautiful. 
Courtesy,  my  child,  demands  that  you  offer  and  that  I  decline. 
Exactly  why,  I  am  not  sure  that  I  know  myself.  It  is  a  little 
polite  social  fiction,  you  see.  However,  I  will  excuse  you  till 
next  time." 


ONE     SUMMER.  107 

The  boy  listened  with  a  bright,  admiring  look.  Her  words 
were  new  and  strange  to  him.  Her  meaning  he  rarely  failed 
to  grasp. 

"  Miss  Leigh,  you  an'  him  talk  jest  percisely  alike.'''' 

"  Gem,"  said  she,  abruptly,  "  I  think  I  never  saw  more 
beautiful  clouds.  They  look  like  great  snowy  mountains,  do 
they  not?     Alpine  summits." 

"  I  knoAv  all  about  'em,"  was  the  complacent  response  to 
this  burst  of  enthusiasm.  "  He  told  me.  Them 's  the  cumu- 
lus.    Heaps  an'  heaps  on  'era,  ain't  they,  and  jolly  white  ?  " 

Leigh  sighed  despairingly.  Could  she  never  be  free  from 
this  incubus  ?     Did  it  extend  even  to  the  clouds  ? 

"  Why,  Gem,  it  is  towards  Birch  Point  we  are  going,  is  it 
not  ?  " 

"  It  is  to  Birch  Point,  if  yer  don't  mind  the  walk.  "We  're 
goin'  the  short  cut.  'T  ain't  more  'n  three  or  four  miles  this 
way.     Him  an'  me  went  t'  other  way,  an'  he  — >  " 

"  You  dear  little  Gem,  I  would  be  delighted  to  go !  I 
have  tried  to  sketch  Birch  Point  from  the  fort.  Now  I  can 
see  how  the  fort  looks  from  the  Point." 

"  There  's  a  cave  there.  Him  an'  me  went  down  in.  He 
is  awful  knowin'.  He  's  learned  me  a  pile  of  things.  Says 
he  —  " 

"  Taught  me,"  instantly  corrected  the  oracle. 

"  I  ruther  guess  you  an'  him  together  will  make  a  stunnin' 
scholar  of  me,"  said  Jim,  with  a  chuckle. 

"  '  You  an'  him  together  ! '  Worse  and  worse,"  thought 
she.  Severe  criticism  had  failed  to  divert  Jimmie's  ideas. 
Would  a  downright  compliment  be  of  any  use,  she  wondered. 


108  ONE     SUMMER. 

"  It  is  a  pleasure  to  teach  you  anything,  you  are  so  bright 
and  remember  so  well/'  she  graciously  remarked. 

"  Well,  he  says  I  'm  bright.  I  'm  a  awful  blockhead  at 
school,  though.     Funny,  ain't  it  ?  " 

"  I  think  you  are  very  bright,"  said  Leigh,  resolutely,  ignor- 
ing the  ever-present  "he."  "You  ought  to  make  a  very 
clever  man.  There  may  be  a  few  things  I  can  teach  you  now, 
but  if  you  work  in  the  right  way,  you  will  know  ever  so  much 
more  than  I  do  when  you  are  twenty." 

"Twenty?  Are  you  twenty?  He  's  thirty."  Leigh 
groaned  in  spirit.  "  I  asked  him,  an'  he  told  me,  but  he 
larfed  and  said  I  must  n't  ask  folks  how  old  they  was,  per- 
tickerly  ladies,  so  I  did  n't  ask  you  —  but  I  wanted  to  know 
awfully,  cos  yer  kinder  young  and  kinder  old,  yer  know. 
Sometimes  yer  don't  seem  no  older 'n  me,  an'  sometimes  yer 
act  as  old  as  the  parson.  I  asked  him  how  old  he  s'posed 
you  was,  an'  he  said  he  s'posed  nothing  whatever.  '  Far  be 
it  from  me/  says  he,  '  to  persume  to  have  any  opinion  on  that 
subjeck.'    An'  he  kinder  larfed.     Odd  talkin'  chap,  ain't  he  ?  " 

Leigh,  in  utter  hopelessness,  remained  silent.  It  was  evi- 
dently useless  to  attempt  to  turn  the  conversation  into  any 
channel  which  would  not  immediately  lead  to  her  bugbear  and 
Gem's  hero. 

On  they  walked,  swinging  the  basket  between  them.  Sud- 
denly, Gem  said,  — 

"  Be  said  '  clever.'  I  told  yer,  him  an'  you  talked  alike. 
He  said,  with  the  right  trainin'  I  'd  make  a  clever  feller." 

"  O  Gem,  Gem,  if  you  only  would  not,  quite  all  the  time  !  " 
thought  Leigh. 


ONE     SUMMER.  Ill 

"  An'  I  thought  clever  meant  kinder  good-natured,  but  he 
told  me  it  was  jest  the  same  as  knowin'." 

A  smile  was  her  only  response. 

"  Yer  see,  I  'm  considerable  'stonished,  cos  I  kinder  got 
settled  into  thinkin'  I  was  a  noodle/'  confided  Jimmie,  with 
his  head  on  one  side,  and  casting  a  curious  little  canary-bird 
look  up  into  her  face.  "  Jones,  he  stuck  to  it  three  winters," 
continued  Gem,  laughing,  "  an'  I  begun  to  think  pVaps  he 
was  right  about  it,  if  he  was  most  generally  a  darn  fool." 

"  Jimmie,  really  this  is  dreadful.  You  promised  not  to 
use  such  words,"  said  Miss  Doane,  with  dignity. 

"  "Well,  I  won't,  then,"  said  Jim,  half  in  penitence,  half  in 
mischief.  "  I  'm  awful  sorry."  Then,  the  mischief  pre- 
dominating, "  I  won't  say  'em  about  any  other  feller  if  yer  '11 
let  me  'bout  Jones,  an'  I  don't  care  pertickerly  for  darn  if  yer 
like  pesky  any  better,  or  thunderin',  or  any  sech." 

Jim's  naivete,  as  usual,  proved  irresistible.  The  dignity 
vanished,  and  Leigh,  laughing,  inquired,  — 

"  "Who  is  this  poor  Mr.  Jones  who  is  doomed  to  be  called 
such  naus'htv  names  ?  " 

"  He  's  the  schoolmarster,"  replied  Gem,  with  sublime  con- 
tempt. "  He  don't  know  so  much  as  once.  The  biggest 
noony  yer  ever  did  see,"  said  he,  with  tremendous  energy. 
"  He  cum  down  from  Ayerville  College  with  his  hair  parted 
in  the  middle.  He  talkth  thith  way,  an'  thays  '  my  de-ah  '  to 
the  girls.  Kisses  'em  too,  by  thunder,  when  he  thinks  folks 
ain't  round,  an'  lots  of  the  big  fellers  licked  him  last  winter, 
an'  I  ruther  guess  he  ain't  a-coming  this  way  again.  Not 
much,  old  doughface  !  "  he  added  with  a  sneer. 


112  ONE     SUMMER. 

Leigh's  spirits  rose.  Here,  at  last,  was  an  all-engrossing 
topic  upon  which  Gem  should  dilate  at  his  pleasure.  Con- 
tempt for  the  schoolmaster  should  be  encouraged. 

"  So  Mr.  Jones  thought  that  you  were  not  bright.  He  was 
mistaken,  Gem,  utterly  mistaken." 

"  Well,  yer  see  I  was  kinder  young  an'  small  when  he  be- 
gun," said  Gem,  drawing  himself  up  and  looking  as  tall  as 
possible.  "  It  was  considerable  time  ago,  —  three  years  last 
winter.  Bein'  only  a  little  shaver,  I  was  mortal  Afraid  if  he 
learned  me  anything  he  knowed,  I  'd  grow  up  into  jest  such 
another  noodle.  So  I  kinder  got  into  the  habit  of  losin'  my 
books,  an'  never  knowin'  nothin'  at  all,  an'  runnin'  away  every 
chance  I  got,  an'  I  kep'  it  up  pretty  stiddy  all  the  time  the  old 
donkey  stayed." 

Leigh  was  aware  that  she  ought  to  remonstrate,  but  she 
felt  a  surprising  sympathy  with  Jim,  sharing  his  dislike  for 
the  absent  Jones,  and  she  laughingly  said,  — 

"  What  a  comfort  you  must  have  been  to  the  poor  man  ! " 

"Buther  guess  I  was.  Heaps  o'  comfort.  He  forgot  to 
cell  me  so,  though,"  said  Gem,  with  a  queer  expression,  as  if 
recalling  days  gone  by  and  scenes  with  the  "  marster."  "  I 
can't  help  it,"  he  exclaimed  vehemently ;  "  when  I  don't  like 
folks  I  won't  learn  a  blessed  thing,  an'  that 's  the  end  on  it ; 
but,"  he  added  with  immense  enthusiasm,  "if  you  an'  Mr. 
Ogden,  you  an'  him,  both  of  you  together — " 

Leigh  had  been  breathing  freely  for  a  few  moments.  Here 
she  actually  shuddered. 

"If  two  reggler  bricks  like  you  an'  he  want  me  to  peg 
away  at  books  an'  things,  I'll  do  it  sure  's  yer  born." 


ONE     SUMMER. 


113 


Miss  Doane  threw  her  shawl  upon  the  grass  and  sat  down. 

"Tired?" 

"  Not  physically  tired,  Gem,  but  mentally  stunned.  As  the 
French  say,  '  I  can  no  more/  "  And  she  contemplated  Gem 
with  mingled  amusement,  admiration,  and  dismay.  "  O  Gem, 
you  funny  child  !  "  she  exclaimed,  and,  looking  directly  into 
his  merry  eyes,  began  to  laugh  heartily.  Her  mood  was  con- 
tagious. She  sat  upon  a  little  mound,  and  Gem  rolled  on  the 
grass  and  shouted  and  shrieked,  and  the  two  good  comrades 
laughed  in  utter  abandonment  and  foolish  unison.  There  was 
small  sense  in  it,  perhaps,  but  they  enjoyed  it,  and  no  "  rigid 
wise"  person  was  there  to  see  or  hear  or  condemn  them. 


CHAPTER   X. 

"  0  brave  new  world, 
That  lias  such  people  in  it !  " 

The  Tempest. 

IRCH  POINT  will  not  come  to  us,  Gem." 
"  'T  ain't  likely." 

"  Then  if  we  mean  to  arrive  at  that  haven  of  rest 
before  high  noon,  we  must  bestir  ourselves.  Hop 
up,  child,  and  assume  your  half  of  the  burden.  Would  any 
one  believe  it  could  seem  so  heavy  ?  Lift  it,  Gem.  This  fable 
teaches  us  that  we  must  not  loiter  by  the  wayside  and  laugh 
till  we  are  weak,  the  next  time  we  go  on  a  pilgrimage  with  a 
heavily  laden  basket." 

She  lifted  the  cover.  "  See,  Gem.  It  is  actually  full  to 
the  brim.  What  could  have  possessed  me?  We  might 
lighten  our  load  a  little.  Gem,  you  cannot  eat  all  of  those 
doughnuts,  unless  you  have  the  appetite  of  an  anaconda,  can 
you,  now  ?  " 

"  Do  yer  ask  honest  Injun,  no  cheatin'  nor  nothin'  ?  " 
"^Certainly.     Perfectly '' honest  Injun/" 
"  Well,  then,  I  guess  if  I  was  you,  I  would  n't  throw  nothin' 
out,  except  them  napkins  and  pVaps  the  plates  if  yer  want  ter 


ONE     SUMMER.  115 

very  bad.  Cos  I  kalkerlate  them  doughnuts  is  pretty  fair 
eatin'.  I  never  seed  that  ere  thing  yer  said,  an'  I  don't  know 
nothin'  about  its  appetite,  but  I  reckon  I  can  eat  doughnuts 
faster  'n  ole  Phipps  can  fry  'em,  anyhow." 

"I  withdraw  my  objection  out  of  respect  to  your  powers. 
Not  a  crumb  shall  be  wasted." 

"  Miss  Leigh,  I  can  carry  this  ere  basket  just  as  easy  as 
stealin'.  'T  ain't  heavier  'n  nothin'.  You  jest  let  go  on  it. 
Come." 

"No,  sir.  You  will  carry  your  half  audi  mine.  But  it 
was  right  to  say  that,  dear,  because  you  thought  I  was  tired 
and  warm.  You  were  kind  and  thoughtful,  Gem.  Always 
to  be  so  is  what  makes  a  man  a  gentleman." 

"  I  s'pose  he  's  lugged  heaps  o'  baskets  an'  things  for  girls. 
He 's  awful  kind,  anyhow.  Jest  your  sort.  Real  keerful-like 
you  know." 

Leigh's  attention  was  engrossed  by  a  refractory  glove-button. 

"  He  gave  me  a  reggler  talkin'  to  cos  I  put  a  snail  on  to  the 
back  of  Jane  M'ria's  neck  when  she  was  a-comin'  across  the 
barnyard  with  two  big  pails  o'  milk.  O,  my  !  Yer  ought  ter 
have  seen  her  !  Warn't  she  fun,  though  ?  She  hopped,  an' 
she  yelled,  an'  she  dropped  the  milk,  an'  one  of  the  pails  tipped 
clean  over,  an'  marm  she  rowed  it  awful  strong,  an'  I  hid  in 
the  hen-house,  an'  marm  got  over  her  feelin's,  an'  then  I  come 
out.  But  yer'd  ought  to  a  heerd  him.  Did  n't  he  give  me 
fits,  and  all  so  quiet  like,  too  !  Don't  yer  never  tell,  hope  ter 
die,  an'  I  '11  tell  yer  sumthin'." 

"  I  will  not  tell,  Gem." 

"  He  made  me  cry  like  blazes,"  said  Jim  in  a  shamefaced 


Il6  ONE     SUMMER. 

way.  "  Marm,  she  pulls  my  ears  when  she  's  rnad,  an'  kin 
ketch  me,  an'  she  allers  rows  it  considerable,  yer  know,  an'  I 
get  used  to  it.  An'  dad,  he  don't  keer  much  about  nothin', 
an'  lets  me  alone  pretty  much ;  an'  when  the  marster  got  red 
in  the  face  and  called  names,  I  thought  it  was  jolly  good  fun  ; 
but  yer  see  he  warn't  like  'em.  No  feller  could  n't  stan'  it " 
—  apologetically.  "He  made  me  cry.  He  jest  did.  Dead 
earnest  and  no  mistake." 

Perverse  Leigh  was  interested,  but  not  a  word  would  she  sav. 

"  He  sot  me  down  by  the  table  in  his  room,"  continued  the 
boy,  in  an  awe-struck  voice.  "  Yer  see  I  did  n't  keer  about 
Jane  M'ria,  an'  marm  she  did  n't  mind  nothin'  except  the  milk 
bein'  spilled,  an'  I  done  worser  things  than  that  to  make  Jane 
M'ria  jump,  lots  o'  times.  But  he  did  n't  seem  to  be  a-thinkin' 
about  the  milk  at  all." 

Jimmie  looked  thoughtful  as  he  wTent  on. 

"  He  talked  kinder  quiet  like,  yer  see.  He  was  a-sittin'  by 
the  table  too,  an'  sometimes  he  looked  across  at  me ;  but  lie 
was  mostly  a-markin'  with  a  pencil,  an'  he  warn't  very  long 
about  it,  neither ;  but  no  feller  could  n't  stan'  it,  Miss  Leigh." 

"  No,  dear,"  said  Leigh,  softly. 

"  He  said  it  was  onmanly  to  put  a  snail  on  to  Jane  M'ria. 
He  said  as  how  a  boy  could  have  his  jokes.  Jokin'  was  good 
for  boys.  But  this  was  pooty  mean  jokin'.  That  was  when  he 
was  a-begirmin',  yer  see,  an'  I  did  n't  know  how  he  was  a-goin' 
on,  an'  that  I  could  n't  stan'  it  anyhow,  an'  says  I,  '  Well, 
Jane  M'ria  need  n't  go  a-walkin'  along  with  her  mouth  open, 
an'  a-lookin'  as  if  her  senses  had  gone  off  a-visitin'.  If  she 
warn't  so  queer  I  would  n't  'a'  wanted  to  put  a  snail  on  her.' 


ONE     SUMMER.  117 

"  An'  he  tol'  roe  when  I  fit,  ter  fight  a  boy  my  own  size,  or 
bigger  'n  me,  if  I  wanted  ter.  Says  I,  '  Pnttin'  snails  on  ter 
Jane  M'ria  ain't  fightin'  anybody.'  '  Yer  right,'  says  lie.  '  It 
ain't  fightin'  j  it 's  persecution,  Jimmie.'  He  said  he  presumed 
I  would  n't  keer  if  snails  crawled  all  over  me.  Says  he,  '  Yer 
have  n't  got  no  nerves,  Jim ;  but  yer  sister  is  timid  an'  ner- 
vous, so  anything  of  this  kind  is  onfair,  onmanly,  mean  and 
cruel.'  Them  's  the  words  he  said.  Hittin'  a  feller  when  he 
Mas  down,  an'  pnttin'  snails  on  to  delicate,  nervous  girls,  was 
all  about  the  same.  An'  then  he  said  I  was  pretty  manly, 
an'  men  did  n't  do  sech  things,  an'  he  rather  thought  I  warn't 
a-goin'  to  no  more. 

"  An'  I  kinder  choked  up,  an'  that  was  all  I  said.  An' 
says  he,  '  Shake  hands  on  that,  Jim.'  He  was  kinder  smilin', 
yer  see.  An'  sumthin  or  rather  made  me  boohoo  right  out. 
An'  he  said  he  was  goin'  to  look  up  his  fishin'-rod,  an'  when 
he  come  back  he  asked  me  to  go  a-troutin',  an'  he  did  n't  say 
nothin'  more,  yer  know.  We  never  come  home  till  nigh  sun- 
down. Got  nine  ;  beauties  they  was,  too.  Queer  what  made 
me  bawl,  warn't  it  ?  He  's  the  only  feller  that  could  'a'  made 
me.     Could  n't  stan'  it,  nohow.     Xobody  could  n't." 

The  child  related  his  experience  in  a  dramatic  way  that 
commanded  Leigh's  close  attention.  He  spoke  at  times  in 
unconscious  imitation  of  Mr.  Ogden's  manner.  Involuntarily 
a  suspicion  of  amusement  would  creep  into  his  tone  whenever 
he  alluded  directly  to  that  snail  and  the  luckless  Jane  M'ria. 
He  also  manifested  his  usual  faith  in  Mr.  Ogden's  infallibility, 
and  his  own  tears  he  evidently  regarded  as  a  natural  phenom- 
enon. 


Il8  ONE     SUMMER. 

"  Mr.  Ogden  was  perfectly  right,  Gem."  Leigh  felt  that 
this  approval  of  the  enemy  evinced  a  greatness  of  soul  to 
which  poor  erring  human  nature  rarely  attains.  "  But  you  '11 
never  do  so  any  more/''  she  said  lightly.  "  Do  you  know  you 
have  been  entertaining  me  so  well  the  basket  has  grown  light 
again  ?  And  here  we  are  at  the  Point,  are  we  not,  you  mag- 
nificent Gem  ?  Take  me  to  the  cove.  If  I  have  a  special 
desire  for  anything  in  the  world,  at  this  moment,  it  is  for  a 
good  comfortable  rock  with  a  back  to  it,  and  cool  water  rip- 
pling at  my  feet/' 

Past  the  thickly  wooded  hill,  through  fields  where  were  oc- 
casional clumps  of  poplars  and  pretty  young  birch-trees,  over 
a  rustic  bridge  which  crossed  a  little  winding  creek,  Jimmie 
led  Miss  Doane,  who  expressed  enthusiastic  delight  at  every- 
thing. 

"  Was  there  ever  such  soft  velvety  grass  and  such  wavy  land  ? 
The  woods  look  lovely  off  there,  but  nothing  can  destroy  my 
allegiance  to  the  cove.  The  cove,  my  Gem,  is  at  present  my 
heart's  desire."  And  soon  she  gained  it.  Nothing  was  want- 
ing. The  rock  with  a  back  to  it,  or  the  water  rippling  at  her 
feet. 

Leigh  raised  her  umbrella,  Gem  threw  himself  on  the 
ground  and  leaned  against  the  rock.  Both  were  silent.  The 
low  ripple  of  the  water  as  the  incoming  tide  crept  nearer,  the 
chirp  of  grasshoppers,  and  the  distant  note  of  a  wood-bird, 
were  the  only  sounds. 

Gem,  as  usual,  was  revolving  something  in  his  mind. 

"  Miss  Leigh,  what  was  it  yer  said  about  them  doughnuts  ?  " 

"  Doughnuts,  Gem  ?  "  with  a  slightly  wandering  air.  "  I  'in 
sure  I  do  not  know.     When?" 


ONE     SUMMER.  119 

"  Yer  said  I  could  n't  eat  'em  all  up  unless  I  had  a  appetite 
like  a  sumthin  or  rather.  I  never  seed  one.  I  thought  I 
would  ask  yer." 

"  Did  I  say  anaconda  ?  " 

"That 's  the  chap.     What  is  a  anaconda  ?  " 

Leigh's  features  suddenly  and  singularly  changed  their  ex- 
pression. The  air  of  delicious  languor,  the  dreamy,  far-off 
look,  vanished.  Thoroughly  roused,  with  a  gleam  of  satisfac- 
tion on  her  face  and  a  wicked  sparkle  in  her  eye,  she  replied  :  — 

"First  class  in  natural  history,  stand  up.  You  display  a 
thirst  for  knowledge  concerning  the  anaconda.  It  will  afford 
me  pleasure  to  impart  to  you  my  small  stock  of  information 
upon  this  important  topic.  The  anaconda,  my  dear  young 
friend,  is  a  snake.  Its  distinguishing  characteristic  is  its  ca- 
pacity for  swallowing  anything  and  everything  it  sees.  It  can 
swallow  objects  morally  and  physically  greater  than  itself, — 
even  as  large  as  a  young  lady  and  her  umbrella.  Umbrellas 
do  not  agree  with  the  anaconda,  Gem.  The  anaconda  belongs 
to  the  Boa  family,  which  is  spelled  B-o-a,  but  strongly  suggests 
B-o-r-e.  Some  persons,  James,"  she  added  sententiously, 
"  resemble  the  anaconda." 

Gem  eyed  her  cutiously. 

"Jokin',  ain't  yer?" 

"  No,  dear,  not  exactly ;  but  if  I  have  given  you  false  ideas, 
you  can  correct  them  when  you  study  about  snakes  one  of 
these  days.  I  'm  not  wise  enough  to  repeat  a  definition  from 
an  unabridged  dictionary,  but  I  don't  like  anacondas,  Gem. 
They  take  more  than  their  share  of  things.  Some  persons  are 
exceedingly  like  the  anaconda.  Altogether  a  very  disagreeable 
species.     Ugh  ! " 


120  ONE     SUMMER. 

Having  thus  viciously  given  a  Roland  for  Mr.  Ogden's 
Oliver,  she  felt  appeased,  and  turned  in  a  jubilant  way  to  the 
lunch-basket.  Lunch  was  soon  served  and  soon  over.  Gem 
swallowed  Miss  Phipps's  dainties  and  Miss  Doane's  aphorisms 
apparently  with  equal  relish,  and  the  beauties  of  nature  did  not 
materially  affect  the  young  lady's  appetite,  whatever  may  have 
been  her  inward  misgivings  with  regard  to  the  propriety  of 
having  one. 

"  What  a  lovely,  long,  lazy  afternoon  we  are  going  to  have, 
Gem ! "  And  she  settled  herself  comfortably  again,  after 
having  repacked  the  basket,  and  looked  smilingly  at  the  boy. 
"If  our  consciences  are  clear,  we  ought  to  be  perfectly  happy." 

"I  ain't  done  nothin',"  remarked  Jim,  with  an  air  of  con- 
scious rectitude. 

"You  are  fortunate,"  said  Leigh,  amused,  and  wondering  a 
little  about  the  snail  and  the  pre-snail  period. 

"  I  s'pose  you  ain't  never  done  nothin'  ver  had  n't  ought 
ter." 

The  green  banks  of  an  island  up  the  river  rose  solemnly 
and  accusingly  out  of  the  water,  and  stared  at  guilty  Leigh. 

"I?     0,  frequently,  Gem  !     Constantly,  I  might  say." 

Gem  looked  incredulous.  He  would  believe  anything  she 
could  tell  him  about  long  words,  strange  animals,  and  the 
habits  of  polite  society,  but  this  was  too  much.  His  goddess 
had  no  human  attributes.  She  had  never  put  snails  on  people, 
nor  robbed  orchards,  nor  tied  saucepans  to  cats'  tails. 

Leigh  knew  that  he  was  puzzled. 

"  My  dear,  I  mean  that  I  do  things  that  are  just  as  naughty 
in  me  as  putting  snails  on  Jane  Maria  was  in  you.     My  snails 


ONE     SUMMER.  121 

are  of  a  different  kind,  but  they  are  very  snaily  sometimes. 
It  is  a  perverse  world,  Jimmie-boy,  and  when  you  and  I  feel 
like  throwing  snails  at  people  we  'd  better  shut  our  teeth  to- 
gether hard  and  run  away.  If  we  stay  where  the  snails  and 
the  people  are,  we  shall  surely  do  what  we  '11  be  sorry  for. 
All  of  which  is  a  very  poor  sermon.  I  do  not  preach  well, 
dear.  My  strongest  talent,  I  have  just  discovered,  lies  in  lec- 
turing upon  natural  history." 

Chatting  lazily,  Leigh  passed  the  long  summer  afternoon. 
It  seemed  singular  that  she  had  become  so  attached  to  this 
curious  child  that  she  did  not  weary  of  his  presence  and  inces- 
sant questioning.  She  knew  that  a  long,  perfectly  quiet  day 
like  this  would  be  intolerable  with  an  uncongenial  companion. 
What  torture  to  sit  upon  a  river-bank  for  hours  with  a  "  watery 
smile  and  educated  whisker,"  the  typical  society-man  in  a 
certain  set  at  home,  she  thought.  There  are  some  things  one 
must  enjoy  alone  or  with  a  perfectly  sympathetic  nature. 
People  who  are  n't  responsive  are  so  tiresome.  And  this  funny 
little  friend.  Was  he  responsive  ?  Sympathetic  ?  Unques- 
tionably. She  looked  at  him  earnestly,  trying  to  fancy  what 
manner  of  man  he  might  become.  He  was  whistling  in  a 
pleasantly  subdued  way,  and  employing  his  superfluous  energies 
in  fashioning  a  boat,  with  his  knife,  from  a  piece  of  wood  he 
had  picked  up.  Gazing  at  the  clouds  and  the  river  running 
by,  and  building  air-castles  might  do  for  Miss  Doane.  Sturdy 
Gem  preferred  whittling. 

Leigh  noticed  the  well-shaped  head  bent  over  his  work,  the 
breadth  of  the  slightly  projecting  brow,  the  strange  keenness 
of  the  deeply  set  gray  eyes,  the  flexible,  refined  lips.     He  kept 


122 


ONE     SUMMER. 


them  closed,  too.  She  believed  he  was  the  only  boy  in  Edge- 
comb  who  did  not  habitually  go  about  with  his  mouth  open. 
The  thick  mass  of  his  bright  brown  hair  was  cut  in  a  jagged 


ONE     SUMMER.  123 

and  incomprehensible  way,  —  possibly  by  the  maternal  Hcl- 
brook's  sheep-shears.  His  face  was  sunburnt  and  freckled  and 
scratched  ;  his  hands  torn  by  brambles  and  rough  fences.  Yet, 
in  spite  of  everything,  he  was  a  "  bonnie,  bonnie  bairn." 

Gem  glanced  up  and  met  her  intense  gaze. 

"What  is  it,  Miss  Leigh?" 

"  What  is  what  ?  " 

Gem  laughed. 

"I  don't  know  exakly.     Yer  looks  said  sumthin.'" 

"Did  they,  dear?  I  was  wondering  what  I  should  have 
done  down  here  without  my  Gem." 

Gem's  brown  cheeks  grew  rosy  with  pleasure. 

"  If  folks  was  like  you  an'  he,  an'  if  folks  warn't  continoo- 
ally  a-callin'  other  folks  names  an'  a-pullin'  of  other  folks's 
ears,  there  'd  be  more  fun  in  it/'  he  muttered. 

Possessing  the  key  to  Gem's  enigmatical  remarks,  Leigh 
interpreted  this  speech  as  a  graceful  acknowledgment  of  her 
kindness  and  a  discreet  allusion  to  home-difficulties. 

"  Gem,  would  n't  you  like  me  to  tell  you  a  story  ?  "  she 
said  kindly.     "  What  kind  of  a  one  do  you  prefer  ?  " 

"  Most  anything  I  guess,  only  I  ain't  fond  of  Sunday-school 
books.  Them  pious  boys  allers  gits  hurt  or  sumthin.  I  ain't 
fond  on  'em,  Miss  Leigh.  S'pose  yer  tell  a  bear-fightin'  yarn. 
Make  the  bear  awful  big,  an'  monstrous  ugly,  an'  hungrier  'n 
nothing  cos  he  ain't  had  a  scrap  of  a  thing  ter  eat  fur  eight 
days." 

"  What  a  dreadful  vision,  Gem  !  I  can  almost  hear  him 
growl.  My  education  has  been  neglected,  I  am  afraid,  for 
bear-hunting  is  Sanscrit  to  me.     You  may  tell  me  a  bear-story 


124  ONE     SUMMER. 

some  time.  To-day  I  will  tell  you  something  very  old  and 
sweet,  that  I  used  to  read  when  I  was  your  age,  and  that  I 
like  just  as  well  now." 

"  Fire  away.  Guess  I  shall  like  it,  if  't  ain't  about  them 
pious  chaps  what  gits  crushed  under  wheels  an'  says  hymns 
an'  dies  happy.     I  ain't  fond  on  'em,  yer  know." 

"  Don't  be  alarmed,  Gem,"  said  Leigh,  laughing.  "  It  is 
nothing  of  that  description,  I  assure  you.  I  am  afraid  I  know 
even  less  of  such  boys  than  of  bears." 

Then  she  began  :  — 

"  Once  upon  a  time,  long,  long  ago,  there  was  a  great, 
strong,  beautiful,  wise,  good  king,  and  he  lived  far  away  over 
the  sea.  It  was  ages  ago,  and  far,  far  away,  but  his  country 
was  a  little  like  this,  perhaps." 

Amused  at  herself,  yet  eager  to  discover  the  resemblance, 
Leigh  rose,  and,  shading  her  eyes  with  her  hand,  threw  a  long, 
searching  look  upon  the  surrounding  landscape.  North  and 
south,  east  and  west,  she  gazed,  then  with  a  satisfied  air,  as  her 
glance  fell  on  the  gleaming  river,  "  It  might  be  flowing  down 
to  Camelot,"  she  said.  "  Only  a  wee  bit  of  magic,  Gem,  and 
we  'd  have  four  gray  walls  and  four  gray  towers  over  on  the 
island,  and  sleepy  white  lilies  all  around  it,  and  the  heavy 
barges  moving  slowly  up  and  down  the  river,  and  gay  little 
boats  dancing  by ;  and  over  there  would  be  the  winding  road 
where  the  red-cloaked  market-girls  would  pass,  and  where 
stately  knights  in  shining  armor  would  ride,  and  sometimes  a 
lazy  old  abbot,  and  sometimes  a  dainty,  graceful  page.  And 
there,"  pointing  down  the  river,  "  would  rise  the  towers  of 
beautiful  Camelot,  the  royal  city.  Yes,  I  know  it  was  like 
this  !  "  she  exclaimed. 


ONE     SUMMER.  12$ 

Gem  calmly  whittled.  No  person  could  have  been  more 
ignorant  nor  more  indifferent  than  he  concerning  the  scenery 
in  the  suburbs  of  Camelot,  and  Miss  Doane  might  air  her 
little  poetical  comparisons  undisturbed  by  doubt  or  sneer. 

"  When  this  great,  beautiful,  wise,  good  king  —  " 

"Strong/''  instantly  corrected  Gem.  "You  said  ' strong/ 
before,  and  this  time  you  said  all  the  rest  of  'em  an'  left 
'  strong '  out." 

"  My  dear,  if  I  were  an  accomplished  story-teller  I  should 
know  how  to  vary  my  adjectives.     However,  he  was  strong." 

"How  strong?" 

This  simple  inquiry,  in  a  business-like  tone,  was  a  wet- 
blanket  on  Leigh's  enthusiasm.  She  did  not  know  how  strong 
a  modern  Samson  ought  to  be  in  order  to  find  favor  with  Gem. 
It  was  impossible  for  her  to  form  any  estimate  of  the  number 
of  pounds  avoirdupois  that  her  shadowy  hero  of  the  past  had 
been  able  to  lift.     Puzzled,  she  said,  — 

"  Why,  really,  Gem,  I  do  not  know.  He  was  as  strong  and 
as  brave  as  it  was  possible  to  be." 

"  Bet  Mr.  Ogden  could  'a'  licked  him,  and  done  it  easy, 
'thout  harf  trvin'.     Bet  yer  ten  cents.     Come,  now !  " 

"  Indeed  he  could  not,"  said  Leigh,  with  indignant  emphasis. 
"  Now,  Gem,  you  must  not  interrupt,  please,  for  I  have  ever 
so  much  to  tell,  and  it 's  growing  late.  When  this  glorious 
king  —  his  name  was  Arthur  —  came  to  his  throne,  there  were 
cruel  wild  men  whom  he  had  to  conquer,  and  cruel  wild  beasts 
that  he  must  kill."  Gem  stopped  whittling  and  looked  up. 
Thus  encouraged,  Leigh  went  on  boldly.  "  There  were  bears, 
Gem,  and  dragons,  and  snakes,  and  lions,  and  tigers  —  " 


126  ONE     SUMMER. 

"My  eye  !  "  exclaimed  Gem,  in  ecstasy. 
—  "  And  every  kind  of  a  horrible,  growling,  howling,  gnash- 
ing tiling  you  can  imagine.  _  And  there  were  maidens  to  be 
taken  out  of  deep  dark  dungeons  where  wicked  tyrants  had 
thrown  them,  and  castles  and  lands  to  be  restored  to  their 
rightful  owners,  and  altogether  much  need  of  the  good  king, 
and  much  work  for  him  to  do.  And  he  gathered  the  young 
men  of  his  kingdom  about  him,  and  made  some  lovely  laAvs 
for  them.  And  these  men  were  brave  and  fierce  in  battle,  but 
gentle  and  courteous  to  each  other  and  to  all  women.  If  a 
man  were  lame,  deformed  in  any  way,  they  would  forgive  him 
if  sometimes  he  was  rude  and  ungentle  in  speech  or  manner. 
They  thought  it  was  a  part  of  his  infirmity.  But  they  were 
so  strong  and  brave  and  beautiful,  they  believed  there  was  no 
excuse  if  they  were  not  always  kind  and  courtly  to  the  lowliest 
person  as  to  the  king  himself,  and  especially  to  any  woman 
who  needed  aid  and  comfort.  They  thought  strength  should 
be  generous  to  weakness,  and  men  are  stronger  than  women, 
you  know,  dear.  Sir  Launcelot  was  the  most  famous  knight. 
In  a  very  old  book  this  was  written  of  him :  'All !  Sir 
Launcelot,  there  thou  liest  that  Avert  never  matched  of  earthly 
knights'  hands.  Thou  wert  the  fairest  person  and  the  good- 
liest of  any  that  rode  in  the  press  of  knights.  Thou  Avert  the 
truest  friend  to  thy  sAvorn  brother  of  any  that  ever  bestrode 
horse.  Most  courteous  Avert  thou  and  gentle  of  all  that  sat  in 
hall  among  dames.  And  thou  Avert  the  sternest  knight  to  thy 
mortal  foe  that  ever  laid  spear  in  the  rest.' 

"  There  were  ever  so  many  knights,  Gem,  and  such  lovely 
stories  !     You  Avill  read  them  all  some  day.     Only,  dear,  you 


ONE     SUMMER.  127 

see  that  they  were  not  ashamed  to  do  little  trifling  kind  things 
for  people.  They  forbore  their  own  advantage.  They  never 
used  rough,  hard  words/' 

Gern  sat  with  drooping  eyelids,  nervously  opening  and  shut- 
ting his  knife. 

"  Say  that  again,  mil  yer,  about  that  chap  with  the  spear." 

Leigh  again  repeated,  "  There  thcu  liest,  Sir  Launcelot." 

Gem's  face  worked  queerly. 

Leigh  Avas  amazed  at  the  effect  her  words  had  produced.  It 
was  difficult  even  for  her  to  realize  how  utterly  new  these  ideas 
were  to  Gem.  It  was  indeed  another  world  opening  before 
poor  pagan  Jimmie,  whose  ideas  of  right  and  wrong,  of  the 
wildest  description,  were  derived  from  sickly  narratives  in 
which  virtue  was  clothed  in  revolting  colors  and  invariably 
came  to  some  pitiful,  mangled  end;  and  so  it  happened  that 
he  had  dreaded  holy  people  as  one  dreads  disease,  and  never 
for  one  moment  in  his  lawless  little  life  had  he  wanted  "  to  be 
an  angel."  There  was,  then,  according  to  Miss  Leigh,  a  theory 
of  goodness  that  would  not  make  him  like  stuffy  old  Deacon 
Potter,  nor  yet  like  the  suffering  heroes  in  the  Sunday-school 
books. 

"  Was  the  little  fellers  like  the  big  ones  ?  " 

"I  presume  so." 

Gem  looked  unhappy. 

"  What  is  it,  dear  ?  " 

"  Snails,"  was  the  laconic  response. 

"  Gem,  we  will  bury  those  snails  out  of  sight.  The  knights 
of  the  Round  Table  would  undoubtedly  have  put  you  in 
durance  vile  for  that  little  eccentricity.     But  they  believed  that 


128 


ONE     SUMMER. 


big  men,  and  little  men  too,  need  not  be  naughty  always  be- 
cause they  were  naughty  once.  And  if  they  could  see  you 
taking  such  good  care  of  a  forlorn  damsel  far  away  from  friends 

and  home,  showing  me  the  sweet- 
est spots  in  the  world,  bringing 
me  ferns  and  mosses  when  you 
care  nothing  for  such  things  your- 
self, leading  me  so  carefully  over 
boggy  places  and  rough  roads, 
amusing  me  and  making  my  days 
so  much  less  lonely  and  less  long, 
and  being  altogether  such  a  faith- 
ful little  squire,  such  a  tender  and 
true  little  friend,  why,  Gem,  they 
would  be  proud  of  you,  as  I  am. 
They  would  forgive  the  snail  epi- 
sode, provided  your  good  sister 
would,  and  by  and  by  they  would 
make  a  Sir  Gem  of  you,  and  you 
would  be  my  knight." 

Gem  was  more  moved  than  he 
cared  to  show.  Still  the  knife-blade  snapped  and  the  little 
boat  lay  idly  by  his  side. 

"You  are  my  little  knight.  See!  here  are  my  colors." 
She  took  off  her  hat,  untied  a  narrow  violet  ribbon  from  her 
hair,  and,  quickly  fashioning  it  into  a  knot  with  floating  ends, 
pinned  it  to  the  boy's  rough  jacket.  "  The  old  days  are  gone, 
but  people  are  the  same,  I  suppose,  after  all.  You  will  have  no 
dragons  to  slay,  nor  anything  dreadful  to  do  for  me,  but  you 


ONE     SUMMER.  1 29 

may  keep  my  colors,  and  they  will  say  to  you  that  I  love  and 
trust  you,  and  believe  that  you  are  a  brave  little  man  who 
is  going  to  be  gentle  as  well  as  strong,  gentle  because  he  is 
strong." 

A  month  before  Gem  would  have  looked  with  impish  derision 
upon  a  scene  like  this,  and  received  the  colors  and  Leigh's 
little  presentation-speech  with  a  demoniac  howl.  Now  it  all 
seemed  right  and  natural  enough.  It  was  Leigh's  way  of 
doing  things,  perhaps ;  or  it  may  be  Jimmie  had  found  his 
soul. 

Casting  a  pleased  look  at  his  badge  of  honor,  and  passing 
his  hand  over  it  with  a  grimy  caress,  not  likely  to  improve  the 
delicate  hue  of  the  ribbon,  he  said,  — 

"  How  long  did  them  fellers  keep  it  up  ?  Was  they  allers 
keerful  about  fightin'  hard  an'  talkin'  easy  ?  " 

"  No,  dear.     Evil  crept  in  among  them  finally.'" 

"  What  became  0'  the  smart  chap  ?  " 

"  Arthur  was  borne  away  to  fairy-land  in  an  enchanted 
barge,  and  —  " 

"  He  ain't  the  one  I  mean.     I  like  t'  other  feller  best." 

"  Gem,  it  is  odd,  but  I  always  liked  Launcelot  better,  myself. 
But  we  ought  n't.     He  was  not  nearly  so  good  as  Arthur." 

"Can't  help  it,"  persisted  Gem.  "I'll  bet  on  the  chap 
with  the  spear  every  time.  He 's  jest  like  Mr.  Ogden, 
percisely." 

Leigh  tried  to  imagine  the  stately  Launcelot  marching  a 
luckless  maiden  several  weary,  wretched,  muddy  miles,  and 
leaving  her  to  trudge  back  alone  as  best  she  might,  or  taking 
a  two-dollar  bill  out  of  his  vest-pocket,  or  prying  into  a  young 


130  ONE     SUMMER. 

lady's  sketch-book.  He,  the  anaconda,  like  Sir  Launcelot, 
indeed ! 

Gem  at  that  moment  sprang  to  his  feet  with  a  spirited,  "  By 
thunder  !  there  he  is  !  "  and  pranced  down  to  the  water  like  a 
mad  creature,  "  Ship  ahoy  !  "  he  shouted,  making  a  speaking- 
trumpet  of  his  two  hands.  "  Ahoy,  I  say  !  Mr.  Ogden-n-n-n  ! 
He 's  put  about,  He 's  a-comin',''  he  said,  turning  and  nod- 
ding encouragingly  to  Leigh. 

She  would  if  possible  have  curbed  Gem's  impetuous  move- 
ments ;  but  that  brilliant  youth  had  flashed  like  a  meteor  be- 
yond her  reach  and  influence  before  she  realized  his  intentions. 
The  fatal  deed  was  done,  Mr.  Ogden  summoned,  and  his  boat 
swiftly  approaching,  and  she  could  only  make  ready  her  weap- 
ons, offensive  and  defensive.  The  wherry  turned  into  the  cove, 
making  for  that  point  on  the  shore  where  a  small  figure  was 
capering  about  wildly,  and  sending  characteristic  shouts  of 
welcome  over  the  water. 

"  Ain't  she  a  beauty  !  Ain't  she  a  bird  !  Here 's  me,  an' 
here  's  her,  an'  here  's  every  blessed  one  of  us." 

Philip  brought  the  boat  plumply  up  on  the  shore.  Turning 
his  head  just  enough  to  see  the  inimitable  Jim,  but  not  suffi- 
ciently to  command  a  view  of  that  dignified  young  person  who 
stood  with  an  air  of  elegant  unconcern  farther  up  the  bank, 
he  said  carelessly,  "Jump  in,  old  fellow,"  never  dreaming  but 
that  Jim  was  alone,  and  that  he  wished  to  avail  himself  of  the 
opportunity  of  a  row  home.  Blind  and  obtuse  man,  who  had 
caught  but  a  part  of  the  child's  remarks,  and  fancied  "  here 's 
her  "  referred  to  the  wherry. 

"  O,  come  now,  take  her  !  She  ain't  a  mite  afraid.  She  'd 
like  to  go  first-rate,  would  n't  yer,  Miss  Leigh  ?  " 


^o 


ONE     SUMMER.  *33 

"  No,  I  thank  you,  Gem,  not  to-night,  if  you  please,"  "  a 
voice  replied  far  up  the  height/'  —  a  voice  which  sounded 
mischievous  in  spite  of  itself,  and  which  gave  Mr.  Ogden  his 
first  intimation  of  the  presence  of  a  third  person.  Surprised, 
he  turned  quickly,  and  saw  Miss  Doane  leaning  in  assumed 
nonchalance  against  a  great  rock.  In  her  hand  was  the  famous 
umbrella,  which,  like  the  "  snow-white  plume  "  of  King  Henry 
of  Navarre,  was  always  in  the  thickest  of  the  fight.  The  low 
light  from  the  western  sky  behind  her,  shining  through  her 
pretty  hair,  made  a  golden  halo  round  a  head  which,  it  is 
evident,  was  not  that  of  a  saint. 

He  was  for  an  instant  thrown  off  his  guard.  Leigh  saw  it 
with  wicked  joy. 

"  I  beg  a  thousand  pardons,  Miss  Doane.  I  did  not  see 
you  until  this  moment. 

"  That  is  not  of  the  slightest  consequence,  Mr.  Ogden/'  she 
returned  with  ineffable  dignity,  putting  on  her  hat  and  throw- 
ing her  shawl  over  her  shoulders. 

"  Gem,  are  you  coming  with  me,  or  do  you  prefer  to  row 
back  ?  "  she  calmly  inquired. 

Gem  looked  blank. 

"  A  child  may  say  '  Amen ' 
To  a  bishop's  prayer,  and  see  the  way  it  goes  "  ; 

and  Gem,  though  all  unused  to  the  inscrutable  ways  of  society, 
and  to  the  method  by  which  young  ladies  and  gentlemen  cere- 
moniously scratch  out  one  another's  eyes,  could  yet  perceive 
that  a  heavy  cloud  hung  gloomily  between  his  two  bright  par- 
ticular stars. 


134  ONE     SUMMER. 

Looking  with  disappointed,  wondering  eyes  from  his  beloved 
boatman  to  Leigh,  he  said  sadly,  — 

"  I  brung  yer  here,  an*  I  '11  see  yer  home ;  but.  if  yer  'd 
only  jest  get  into  his  wherry  an'  — " 

"  Come,  dear, "  said  Leigh,  impressively.  "  It  is  growing 
very  late." 

She  felt  that  at  last  her  star  was  in  the  ascendant.  While 
the  enemy,  unconscious  of  her  presence,  had  drawn  up  to  the 
shore  and  sat  with  back  turned  and  unconscious  mien,  she  had 
had  time  to  observe  the  ludicrous  elements  of  the  scene  as  well 
as  to  prepare  for  battle.  This  temporary  advantage  she  fully 
appreciated,  and,  together  with  poor  Gem's  bewilderment  and 
comical  chagrin,  it  had  the  effect  of  somewhat  diminishing  the 
resentment  she  had  previously  cherished  towards  Mr.  Ogden. 
Still,  it  was  with  a  superb  and  lofty  air  that  she  condescended 
to  make  a  slight  inclination  in  the  direction  of  the  boat,  and 
a  most  majestic  "  Good  evening,  Mr.  Ogden,"  that  she  deigned 
to  bestow  upon  him. 

"Good  evening,  Miss  Doane,"  was  the  stiff  response. 
"  Come  up  to  my  room  when  you  get  back,  will  you,  Jim  ?  " 

"All  right,"  said  the  boy,  subdued  beyond  belief. 

The  two  figures  climbing  the  bank,  as  before  swinging  the 
basket,  stood  out  boldly  in  the  mellow  sunset  light. 

Philip  could  hear  their  voices,  and  the  free,  merry  laugh 
with  which  Leigh  greeted  some  of  Gem's  philosophy. 

"  The  vials  of  her  wrath  she  delights  to  empty  on  my  head ; 
while  to  my  friend  Jim  she  is  all  softness  and  sunshine.  She 
honored  me  this  evening  by  calling  me  by  my  name,  which  is 
more  than  she  deigned  to  do  at  our  last  interview  of  refriger- 


ONE     SUMMER.  135 

ator  memory.  Yet, l  To  err  is  feminine,  to  forgive  impossible/ 
is  no  doubt  her  motto.  Did  Edgecomb  throw  a  glamour  over 
her,  or  had  she  in  propria  persona  that  picturesque,  wood- 
nymph  look  ?  How  she  manages  to  start  up  suddenly  out  of 
the  ground  and  make  a  picture  of  herself!  "  he  thought,  re- 
calling her  attitude  as  she  stood  with  her  hat  in  her  hand,  her 
lovely  face  slightly  flushed  by  her  long  day  of  wandering,  and 
her  shining  hair  roughened  by  little  breezes.  Likening  her 
to  the  Lorelei,  and  feeling  like  begging  his  own  pardon  for  so 
execrable  a  pun,  he  pulled  with  strong,  steady  stroke  out  of 
the  cove  and  up  the  river. 


CHAPTER    XI. 

"  The  gentler-born  the  maiden,  the  more  bound, 
My  father,  to  be  sweet  and  serviceable 
To  noble  knights  in  sickness,  as  you  know, 
"When  these  have  worn  their  tokens." 

Elaine. 

s|||OBERT,  Robert,  toi  que  j'aime,"  sang  Leigh,  with 
operatic  abandon,  as  she  dusted  her  books,  ar- 
ranged a  few  flowers,  and  shook  her  table-cover 
vigorously  out  of  a  window. 
Loud  and  clear  and  happy  sounded  her  morning-carol  to 
Philip  Ogden's  ears  as  he  passed  under  the  elms  and  up  the 
old-fashioned  paved  walk  that  led  from  the  gate  to  the  door. 
Wide  open  Avere  the  three  windows  of  the  girl's  room.  In 
came  the  sunshine  and  light  morning  breeze,  and  out  went  the 
flood  of  melody.  More  extravagant  and  audacious  grew  the 
singer  every  moment,  until,  after  improvising  a  marvellous  ca- 
denza, the  like  of  which  was  never  attempted  upon  any  known 
stage,  and  executing  what  might  be  called  an  impossible  trill, 
she  concluded  her  efforts  with  a  defiant  little  shriek  on  the 
highest  note  she  could  reach,  and  stopped  to  regain  her  breath. 
And  Philip,  standing  down  at  the  porch,  feeling  like  a  wretched 


ONE     SUMMER.  137 

intruder,  or  as  if  he  had  been  again  discovered  gazing  in  her 
sketch-book,  knowing  well  that  he  was  the  last  person  in  the 
world  whom  Miss  Doane  would  have  selected  to  represent  an 
enraptured  audience,  thought  that  a  kindred  impulse  to  that 
which  made  Jim  stand  on  his  head  and  turn  handsprings  was 
animating  this  many-sided  young  lady. 

The  sunshine  and  warmth,  her  sweet  fresh  youth  and  health, 
and  a  dash  of  childlike  fun,  were  all  expressed  in  the  glad 
notes  she  poured  forth  with  such  delicious  freedom  as  she 
moved  about  her  room.  The  gentlemanly  anaconda,  following 
the  instincts  of  his  nature,  swallowed  the  happy  tones  and  the 
picture  they  suggested. 

The  girl's  voice  sounded  childlike  and  innocent.  He  was 
sorry  when  she  stopped.  He  liked  to  hear  her,  as  one  likes 
anything  joyful  and  fresh  and  free.  The  chameleon  had  never 
before  presented  to  his  gaze  so  attractive  a  hue. 

Xot  wishing  to  deliberately  put  himself  in  the  way  of  meet- 
ing Miss  Doane,  he  had  come  there  that  morning  most  unwill- 
ingly,, and  only  because  he  could  not  in  kindness  refuse.  IV ow 
he  was  not  sorry.  He  was  cpiite  unused  to  girls  and  their 
little  home-ways,  and  he  felt  kindly  and  cordially,  for  the 
moment,  to  this  girl  of  the  happy  voice  with  the  "  fun  "  in  it, 
who  busied  herself  about  her  room  and  sang  in  the  morning 
sunshine  for  pure  gladness  of  heart.  He  was  grateful  for  the 
glimpse  she  had  all  unconsciously  given  him  of  her  real  self, 
although  he  knew  it  was  highly  probable  that  she  would  clothe 
herself  with  pride  as  with  a  garment,  and  descend  that  quaint 
old  staircase  with  all  the  majesty  of  a  line  of  kings. 

"  Eobert,  Kobert,"  began  the  girl  with  renewed  energy. 


138  ONE     SUMMER. 

Philip  had  knocked  once,  and  patiently  waited  for  somebody 
to  appear. 

No  one  came. 

Bees  buzzed  about  the  honeysuckles  by  the  porch,  the  fra- 
grance of  sweet-peas  and  great  white  lilies  stole  round  pleas- 
antly from  the  garden  at  the  side  of  the  house,  the  sun  shone 
in  through  the  open  door  on  the  faded  oil-cloth,  and  above, 
Leigh  was  attempting  another  extravaganza.  He  ventured 
once  more  to  raise  the  heavy  knocker.  Leigh,  deeply  absorbed, 
heard  nothing  but  her  own  voice,  of  which  the  volume  of  tone 
was  no  slight  thing. 

Miss  Phipps  at  last  opened  a  door  at  the  end  of  the  hall  and 
peered  out  curiously. 

"  Oh !  "  she  said,  advancing.  "  My  hands  was  in  the  dough, 
an'  I  did  n't  know  but  she  was  round  somewheres.  Oh ! 
You  're  the  one  as  was  here  before,  ain't  yer  ?  Be  yer  any 
relation  0'  hern  ?  " 

"  I  have  not  that  honor,"  said  the  young  man,  amiably. 

"  Will  you  be  kind  enough  to  give  this  to  Miss  Doane  ?  " 
extending  his  card. 

Miss  Phipps  slowly  drew  her  spectacle-case  from  her  pocket, 
the  spectacles  from  the  case,  and,  as  on  the  previous  occa- 
sion when  Mr.  Ogden  had  appeared  at  her  door,  subjected 
him  and  his  card  to  a  severe  scrutiny,  which  he  bore  unflinch- 
ingly. 

"That 's  her  up  there  a-hollerin."  Having  communicated 
the  self-evident  fact,  she  added  :  "  She  allers  screeches  momin's 
when  she 's  a-fixin'  her  flowers.  Thought  she  'd  make  me  deef 
when  she  first  come.    Used  to  it  now.    Like  to  hear  her  groin's- 


ONE     SUMMER.  139 

on.  Sounds  kinder  cheerful-like,  don't  it,  now?"  And  a 
smile  actually  hovered  for  a  moment  over  her  grim  features. 

Philip  civilly  said  "Very"  and  mildly  renewed  his  sugges- 
tion that  his  card  should  be  presented  to  the  attic  warbler. 

Whereupon  Miss  Phipps  shouts  from  the  foot  of  the  stairs, 
with  force  sufficient  to  interrupt  Leigh  in  one  of  her  most 
elaborate  and  impassioned  flights. 

"  Yes,  M iss  Phipps,  what  is  it  ?  "  comes  pleasantly  down  in 
her  ordinary  voice. 

It  does  not  occur  to  her  to  move  from  her  apartments,  know- 
ing the  usual  tenor  of  Phipps's  remarks.  Does  she  want  the 
apple-pies  sweetened  with  sugar,  or  molasses,  and  will  she  have 
caraway-seeds  in  the  cookies,  or  something  of  similar  import, 
Leigh  expects  to  be  asked. 

Instead,  distinct  and  shrill  from  the  foot  of  the  stairs  ascend 
these  ominous  words,  — 

"  Mr.  Phillup  Ogdin  "  — '  O-gden '  she  called  it,  reading 
from  the  card,  and  suggesting  "ogre"  to  her  listeners  —  "is 
a-waitinJ  down  here  to  see  yer." 

Gone  are  the  merry  roulades,  and  "all  the  air  a  solemn 
stillness  holds." 

The  silence  above  can  be  felt. 

Below,  the  ancient  Phipps  remarks  audibly,  — 

"Her  door's  open.  She's  up  there,  an'  she's  heerd.  I 
don'  know  why  she  don't  answer,  but  I  s'pose  she  '11  come 
down  when  she  gits  ready."  With  which  eminently  cheering 
and  sagacious  announcement,  after  inviting  Philip  to  "come 
in  an'  take  a  cheer,"  and  imparting  the  valuable  information 
that  "sittin'  's  as  cheap  as  standin',"  her  tall,  gaunt  figure 


140  ONE     SUMMER. 

vanishes  from  his  gaze,  and  she  goes  where  her  dough  awaits 
her. 

Presently  Leigh,  with  lady-like  composure,  comes  down  the 
broad  staircase.  Certainly  no  mortal  could  accuse  that  demure 
damsel  of  ever  raising  her  voice  above  regulation  rules  and 
shouting  for  joy. 

She  realized  that  he  must  have  heard  her  musical  uproar, 
and  had  wished  somewhat  impatiently  that  once  in  a  while  he 
might  appear  in  an  ordinary  fashion,  if  it  were,  as  it  seemed 
to  be,  an  unalterable  decree  of  fate  that  she  and  "that  man" 
must  meet.  Having  only  taken  sufficient  time  to  assume,  as 
photographers  say,  the  expression  she  wished  to  wear,  she  ap- 
peared before  Philip,  feeling  as  if  she  were  acting  a  prominent 
part  in  a  genteel  comedy. 

The  expression  was  well  chosen.  It  conveyed  no  idea  of 
her  wonder  as  to  his  object  in  coming,  nor  yet  of  her  strong 
desire  to  laugh  out  frankly  because  she  had  been  discovered 
making  the  morning  hideous. 

Not  the  faintest  hint  that  he  had  heard  anything  which  he 
was  not  expected  to  hear  appeared  on  Iris  countenance,  as 
lie  responded  to  her  "Good  morning." 

"  I  am  sorry  to  disturb  you  so  early,  Miss  Doane,  but  Jim- 
mie  sent  me.  I  come  at  his  urgent  request.  As  the  little 
fellow  's  ill,  I  could  not  refuse." 

"  Gem  ill !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  Is  it  possible  !  Is  he  very 
ill  ?  "  she  asked,  anxiously  forgetting  that  she  was  talking  to 
the  anaconda,  and  must  remember  her  dignity.  Frankly  the 
great  brown  eyes,  full  of  sympathy  for  her  little  friend,  looked 
down  at  him  as  he  stood  on  a  lower  step. 


ONE     SUMMER.  I41 

"  They  call  it  a  low  fever.  He  is  not  seriously  ill  at  present, 
but  I  presume  he  may  become  so.  He  seems  weak  and  listless, 
and  once  in  a  while  his  mind  wanders  a  little.  The  people  at 
the  cottage  are  n't  used  to  sickness,  and  don't  make  the  boy 
any  too  happy,  and  this  morning  he  begged  so  piteously  to  see 
you,  that  I  could  do  no  less  than  tell  you." 

"  0,  certainly  !  "  Leigh  said.  "  Poor  little  Gem  !  I  will  go 
at  once." 

"I  have  a  wagon  out  here,"  began  Philip. 

"  And  you  are  going  to  drive  me  down  ?  That  will  be  ever 
so  much  better  than  walking,"  Leigh  said  hurriedly.  I  will 
be  ready  in  a  very  few  moments."  And  she  ran  rapidly  up 
to  her  room. 

Not  a  vestige  of  her  former  wrath  appeared,  yet  Philip 
could  not  flatter  himself  that  he  personally  had  in  the  remotest 
degree  caused  this  change  of  manner,  which  was  nevertheless 
welcome.  No  man  of  tolerably  good  intentions  enjoys  being 
treated  as  an  obnoxious,  hardened  sinner  by  a  young  and  pretty 
woman.  And  Philip  was  pleased  that  the  happy,  singing  girl 
had  not  been  transformed,  by  the  sight  of  him,  into  that  in- 
comprehensible being  whose  frigid  majesty  of  deportment  he 
vividly  recalled. 

Leigh  soon  appeared  with  her  hat  on,  and  a  small  travelling- 
bag  in  her  hand.  She  had  changed  her  morning  robe  for  the 
memorable  brown  dress  she  had  worn  at  the  fort.  He  fancied 
the  old  manner  must  of  necessity  accompany  it,  the  two  were 
so  closely  allied  in  his  mental  photograph  of  her,  and  was 
relieved  that  he  saw  no  indications  of  an  immediate  relapse. 

"I  am  sorry  to  put  you  into  this  jolting  vehicle,"  he  said, 


142 


ONE     SUMMER. 


as  they  passed  down  the  walk.  "  It  is  the  best  the  Holbrook 
stables  afford. 

rt  How  long  has  he  been  ill  ?  "  And  Leigh  stepped  into  the 
old  wagon  with  an  abstracted  air.  "  I  have  not  seen  him  in 
three  days.     Has  he  been  ill  so  long  ?  " 

Philip,  amused,  decided  that  the  sooner  he  realized  that 
he  was  a  nonentity  the  better.     Except  that  he  could  answer 


questions  about  Gem,  he  apparently  had  no  more  existence  in 
Miss  Doane's  mind  than  if  he  were  an  automaton  driver.  It 
occurred  to  him  that  her  former  treatment  of  him  was,  upon 
the  whole,  more  flattering ;  yet,  not  being  inordinately  vain, 
he  enjoyed  playing  "  dummy."     The  girl's  simplicity  of  man- 


ONE     SUMMER.  143 

ner  and  directness  of  purpose  pleased  him,  and  altogether  he 
found  her  a  curious  study. 

"  I  believe  it  was  the  day  after  he  was  at  Birch  Point  with 
you,  Miss  Doane,  that  he  complained  of  his  head.  He  has 
been  indulging  in  what  the  doctor  called  an  intemperate  use 
of  water.  The  boy  swims  like  a  fish,  and  has  been  in  the  river 
oftener  than  usual  of  late,  and  remained  in  too  long.  It  *s 
too  far  north  for  much  of  that  sort  of  thing." 

Leigh  said  nothing.  Philip  glanced  at  her  as  they  bounced 
and  jolted  along.  All  in  cpiiet  brown,  with  a  thoughtful  look 
on  her  face,  the  Puritan  maiden  Priscilla  could  not  have  seemed 
more  sweet  and  staid.  The  hot  sun  was  pouring  down  upon 
her  ungloved  hands.  They  were  white  and  small  and  ringless, 
he  saw. 

Man-like,  he  thoughtlessly  said  exactly  the  wrong  thing. 

"  This  is  a  broiling  sun.  It  is  a  pity  you  did  not  bring 
your  umbrella  "  ;  and  instantly  could  have  bitten  his  tongue 
out  for  his  maladroit  speech. 

Leigh  colored  to  her  temples.  Her  umbrella  !  Once  upon 
a  time,  ages  upon  ages  ago,  she  and  this  man  had  climbed  that 
very  hill  together.  If  this  fact  had  occurred  to  her  during  the 
drive,  it  had  been  in  a  vague,  shadowy  way.  All  her  vexation 
and  dislike,  her  extravagant  denunciations  of  him,  had  seemed 
so  far  off  and  unimportant.  Sympathy  for  Gem  had  out- 
weighed everything  else.  But  that  fatal  umbrella !  Again 
had  it  thrust  itself  forward  and  done  an  evil  deed. 

She  did  not  know  Avhether  his  remark  was  intentional  or 
not,  but  she  felt  disturbed,  and  fully  conscious  of  the  unpleas- 
ant past. 


144  ONE     SUMMER. 

She  made  an  effort  to  speak  amiably.  She  was  not  ungen- 
erous enough  to  wish  to  be  less  than  gracious  to  the  enemy 
who  plainly  admitted  that  he  was  acting  as  her  escort  solely 
at  the  request  of  a  sick  child,  but  the  voice  that  replied,  "  The 
sun  does  not  trouble  me  in  the  least,  and  we  shall  soon  be 
there,"  was  not  the  caressing  voice  of  the  girl  who  walked  off 
swinging  the  basket  and  chatting  with  Gem  in  the  sunset  light 
at  Birch  Point,  nor  yet  the  careless,  merry  voice  of  the  singer, 
nor  that  of  the  calm  and  thoughtful  Puritan  maiden.  It  was, 
it  must  be  confessed,  painfully  conventional,  and  remotely  sug- 
gestive of  the  atmosphere  of  the  Arctic  regions. 

Both  felt  ill  at  ease,  and  silently  congratulated  themselves 
that  the  beauty  of  the  raw-boned  nag,  which  cheerfully  and 
clumsily  galloped  up  and  down  the  hills,  was  surpassed  by  his 
speed. 

Philip  ushered  Leigh  into  the  ponderous  presence  of  Mrs. 
Holbrook,  who,  not  being  in  the  habit  of  devoting  much  time 
to  the  amenities  of  life,  did  not  thank  the  young  lady  for  com- 
ing.    Giving  her  a  hard  stare,  she  remarked,  —  j 

"  Jim  allers  was  onthrifty.  Never  had  no  sense.  An'  now 
ef  he  ain't  gone  an'  chosen  the  most  onconvenient  season  to 
up  an'  be  sick  in,  right  in  the  midst  of  the  hayin',  an'  me  to 
my  ears  in  raspberry  jam." 

Philip  perceived  that  Leigh  must  have  had  some  previous 
knowledge  of  the  idiosyncrasies  of  Jimmie's  mamma.  The 
young  lady  did  not  manifest  the  faintest  surprise  at  the  tender 
motherliness  of  Mrs.  Holbrook's  sentiments,  but  quietly  said 
that  she  had  no  doubt  Mrs.  Holbrook  was  extremely  busy, 
and  she  should  be  glad  to  relieve  her  of  the  care  of  Jimmie 
for  a  while,  and  might  she  go  to  him. 


ONE     SUMMER.  145 

Her  manner  was,  as  it  needed  to  be,  the  perfection  of  tact, 
for  she  had  come  to  beard  the  Holbrook  in  her  den. 

Preceded  by  the  sorrowing  mother,  followed  by  Philip, 
with  the  shrinking  Jane  Maria  bringing  up  the  rear  of  the 
procession,  Leigh  entered  the  large  cheerless  room  on  the  first 
floor,  where  Gem  lay.  He  usually  occupied  a  loft  in  the  roof, 
but  the  air  up  there  was  so  stifling,  Philip  had  offered  an  in- 
tercessory prayer  to  the  grim  deity  who  ruled  the  household, 
and  had  succeeded  in  inducing  her  to  allow  him  to  bring  the 
child  down  where  he  at  least  would  not  die  of  suffocation. 

She  had  no  intention  of  being  inhuman,  but  her  manner  from 
the  beginning  of  Gem's  illness  had  given  Philip  a  savage  desire 
to  shake  her,  although  he  told  himself  he  might  as  well  at- 
tempt to  shake  Mount  Washington.  Had  her  youth  been  such 
a  "demd  horrid  grind,"  he  wondered,  that  it  had  crushed 
every  possibility  of  kindly  sympathy  out  of  her  nature  ?  She 
made  no  special  effort  to  worry  the  boy.  She  had  a  natural 
aptitude  for  making  people  miserable,  and  her  invincible  ob- 
tuseness  in  this  respect  was  her  stronghold.  When  what 
Philip  termed  her  "nagging"  was  more  than  usually  intense, 
in  pity  he  would  devise  some  means  of  sending  her  from  the 
room,  and  had  befriended  the  boy  in  many  ways.  Mrs.  Hol- 
brook saw  no  necessity  of  consulting  a  physician,  until  Philip 
urged  it  upon  her.  When  the  doctor  had  made  his  visit,  pro- 
nounced Jimmie  veritably  ill,  with  danger  of  congestion  of  the 
brain,  prescribed  his  remedies,  and  departed,  then  arose  that 
formidable  woman,  not  wishing  to  be  outdone  in  her  own 
house,  and  threatened  the  invalid  with  a  heavy  dose  of  castor- 
oil,  which  was  to  be  followed  at  once,  she  volubly  declared, 


I46  ONE     SUMMER. 

by  a  large  bowl  of  saffron  tea.  Moved  to  desperation  by  Jim- 
mie's  horror-struck,  disgusted  face,  as  she  came  towards  the 
bed  with  the  castor-oil  bottle  in  one  hand  and  brandishing  a 
huge  pewter  spoon  in  the  other,  a  forcible  counterpart  of  the 
immortal  Mrs.  Squeers,  the  young  man  sprang  to  his  feet  and 
exclaimed,  "  My  dear  Mrs.  Holbrook,  is  it  —  can  it  be  —  your 
jam  burning  ?  Let  me  give  that  to  Jimmie."  And,  looking 
profoundly  anxious  to  assist  her,  he  took  from  her  hand  the  im- 
plements of  torture.  Telling  him  the  tea  was  all  ready  on  the 
mantel-piece,  she  withdrew,  uttering  violent  imprecations  upon 
"  Jane  M'ria's  shiftlessness."  Whereupon  the  arch  hypocrite 
surprised  the  hollyhocks  growing  just  outside  the  window  with 
a  liberal  deluge  of  castor-oil  and  saffron  tea.  When  she  returned, 
he  gave  her  the  bottle,  in  which  the  oil  was  perceptibly  lowered, 
and  unblushingly  stated  that  "  the  saffron  tea  went  down  very 
well,  and  he  thought  Jim  enjoyed  it,"  suspecting  the  latter  re- 
mark would  prevent  her  from  bringing  in  a  fresh  supply.  He 
piously  hoped  the  recording  angel  would  treat  this  righteous 
fraud  as  leniently  as  he  did  Uncle  Toby's  oath,  and  that  the 
deceitful  deed  deliberately  performed  before  Jim's  grateful  eyes 
might  not  have  a  fatal  effect  upon  that  youth's  subsequent 
career. 

It  had  seemed  to  Philip  that  the  boy  was  very  ill.  At 
times  he  would  lie  almost  in  a  stupor,  wanting  nothing,  say- 
ing nothing;  then  would  sleep  a  few  moments,  and  upon  wak- 
ing would  talk  incoherently.  Whenever  he  seemed  sufficiently 
roused  to  speak  rationally,  he  would  implore  Philip  to  ask 
Miss  Leigh  to  come. 

"  She  likes  me  first-rate/'  he  confidently  asserted.  "  She 
will  come.     I  know  she  will/'' 


ONE     SUMMER.  147 

This  morning  especially  he  had  begged  so  hard  for  her,  that 
Philip  put  his  pride  in  his  pocket,  harnessed  a  horse  himself, 
and  did  as  the  child  desired.  Mr.  Holbrook,  a  spiritless, 
dejected  man,  was  out  in  a  field  not  far  from  the  house.  Philip 
knew  that  he  would  have  gone,  but  thought  it  useless  to  disturb 
him.  The  young  man  always  treated  the  farmer  with  the 
most  respectful  courtesy.  A  man  who  had  endured  twenty 
}Tears'  companionship  with  such  a  spouse,  and  had  lived,  Avas 
a  martyr  pure  and  simple.  No  wonder  his  eyes  looked  dazed 
and  weary,  and  that  he  rarely  spoke. 

To  Edgecomb  proper  then  Philip  had  gone  to  please  the  boy ; 
and  before  he  had  seen  Leigh  he  had  an  interview  with  the 
doctor,  wishing  to  ascertain  that  the  fever  was  not  of  a  con- 
tagious character.  This  he  felt  bound  to  do,  on  Tom's  account, 
the  young  lady  being  still,  as  he  told  himself  with  a  curious 
smile,  under  his  guardian  care.  "  Docile  little  creature ! 
How  pleased  she  will  be  to  see  me !  "  he  thought,  as  his  awk- 
ward Dobbin  stopped  at  Miss  Phipps's.  But  Leigh  had  not 
bestowed  upon  him  the  anticipated  stony  stare,  nor  had  she 
treated  him  in  any  respect  as  an  outlaw.  She  had  come  will- 
ingly, eagerly,  to  the  little  boy  who  needed  her  so  sorely ;  and 
now  Philip  stood  watching  her  as  she  quietly  took  off  her  hat, 
laid  it  on  a  chair,  and  leaned  tenderly  over  the  flushed  little 
face.  She  passed  one  arm  under  Gem's  shoulders,  lifting  him 
easily,  quickly  shook  his  pillow  and  turned  it.  This  common- 
place deed  excited  Philip's  admiration.  He  had  once  seen  a 
similar  thing  done  upon  the  stage,  and  had  thought  it  a  very 
pretty  piece  of  acting. 

From  Leigh's   pleasant  ways  his   attention  was  suddenly 


14^  ONE     SUMMER. 

diverted  by  Mrs.  Holbrook,  who,  with  her  usual  appreciation 
of  the  eternal  fitness  of  things,  took  this  favorable  opportunity 
to  explore  the  long-neglected  closet  of  this  unused  room. 
From  its  cavernous  depths  she  exhumed  boxes,  bags,  and  old 
clothes,  accompanied  by  clouds  of  dust,  and  torrents  of  words. 
Not  content  with  opening  and  shutting  drawers  with  a  prodig- 
ious noise,  she  procured  a  hammer,  with  the  laudable  intention 
of  improving  the  shining  hour  by  driving  a  few  nails. 

The  effect  upon  Gem,  and  also  upon  Leigh  and  Philip, 
through  sympathy,  was  maddening.  Gem  tossed  and  turned 
uneasily.  Leigh  glanced  over  her  shoulder  at  Philip,  then 
threw  a  comical  look  of  abhorrence  at  the  closet-door ;  and 
each  felt,  as  the  pounding  waxed  more  and  more  furious,  that 
the  moment  had  arrived  when  patience  ceased  to  be  a  virtue, 
—  yet  what  could  they  do  ?  There  was  no  law  that  forbade  a 
woman  to  drive  as  many  nails  as  she  pleased  in  her  own  house. 
Gem  groaned,  and  looked  half  frantic.  Leigh  rapidly  crossed 
the  room  to  Philip,  who  was  standing  on  the  threshold  wait- 
ing to  see  if  he  could  be  of  any  use,  and  in  an  undertone,  yet 
in  a  decided,  impetuous  fashion,  said,  — 

"  Do  try  to  make  that  impossible  woman  go  away  and  stay 
away." 

" 1  '11  do  my  best,"  muttered  Philip.  "  I  'd  like  to  choke 
her,"  he  added  savagely.  Leigh  gave  an  approving  and  sym- 
pathetic nod,  which,  plainly  intimated  that  she  would  hugely 
enjoy  acting  as  his  assistant,  should  he  carry  his  barbarous 
wish  into  execution.  Thus  was  tacitly  formed  a  society  for 
the  suppression  of  the  Holbrook.  The  grievances  and  quar- 
rels of  their  own  mighty  feud  they  ignored,  uniting  against 


ONE     SUMMER.  149 

the  common  enemy  for  the  good  of  the  child.  This  anti- 
Holbrook  League  was  an  unpremeditated  thing,  —  the  result 
of  a  word  and  a  glance,  —  yet  it  was  made  in  good  faith,  and 
would  last  just  so  long  as  Gem's  pitiful  case  necessitated  the 
strange  alliance.  Silently,  gracefully,  they  buried  the  hatchet. 
There  would  be  time  enough  in  future,  should  occasion  demand, 
to  assume  fresh  war-paint  and  renew  hostilities. 

Leigh  returned  to  Gem.     The  pounding  continued. 

Philip  reasoned  that  no  ruse  cle  guerre  would  be  of  use  in 
this  emergency,  and  then,  indeed,  it  would  have  been  difficult 
for  him  to  invent  one.  He  had  already  availed  himself  of  and 
exhausted  the  "jam."  What,  then,  remained,  he  anxiously 
asked  himself.  Plainly,  nothing  but  brute  force  or  moral 
suasion.  Everybody  always  yielded  to  the  Holbrook.  Might 
not  deliberate  disapproval  and  opposition  prove  a  successful 
experiment  as  an  entire  novelty  ?  She  might,  it  is  true,  grow 
exceedingly  irate,  and  request  him  to  change  his  boarding- 
place,  which  result  he  should  deeply  deplore,  on  Jimmied 
account.  Still,  he  was  aware  that  his  board  was  an  agreeable 
increase  of  revenue  of  which  it  was  not  probable  that  she 
would  wish  to  deprive  herself. 

"  This  will  not  do,  Mrs.  Holbrook,"  he  said.  "  You  must 
let  these  things  alone  to-day,  and  arrange  them  when  Jim  is 
well.  You  '11  kill  the  boy  with  so  much  noise.  Miss  Doane 
is  kind  enough  to  sit  with  him  for  a  while,  and  when  she  is 
weary  I  will  be  happy  to  take  her  place.  We  are  willing  to 
relieve  you  as  much  as  possible  of  the  care  of  him,  but  I  must 
insist  upon  quiet  in  the  room,  or  no  one  can  answer  for  the 
consequences.  There  are  too  many  here.  Perhaps  you  and  I 
had  better  go  out." 


I50  ONE     SUMMER. 

All  of  which  Philip  uttered  in  an  emphatic  tone  of  mascu- 
line authority,  with  the  air  of  one  who  has  never  had  his  will 
crossed  nor  dreams  that  such  a  possibility  exists.  The  tyrant 
and  termagant  mechanically  pushed  back  into  the  closet  the 
debris  she  had  scattered  over  the  floor.  She  then  ejaculated 
a  stupefied,  "Well,  I  never!  "  and  turned  and  glared  suspi- 
ciously at  Leigh.  That  discreet  young  person,  however,  wore 
the  most  innocent  and  unconscious  air  in  the  world,  as  she 
stood  with  averted  face  and  apparently  never  a  thought  beyond 
Gem.  Philip,  talking  incessantly,  in  order  to  steal  Mrs.  Hol- 
brook's  thunder  and  not  lose  a  point  he  had  gained,  conveyed 
the  nonplussed  woman  into  the  kitchen. 

As  he  closed  the  door  of  Gem's  room,  Leigh  smiled  and 
nodded  in  friendly  farewell,  while  the  brown  eyes  looked  both 
amused  and  grateful. 

The  perfect  quiet  in  the  room  after  the  exhausting  noise  and 
confusion  seemed  grateful  to  Gem,  who  lay  motionless  for  a 
little  time. 

"  Who  brung  yer  letters  ?  I  wanted  ter.  Could  n't,  though," 
he  murmured  sorrowfully,  as  if  he  had  betrayed  a  trust. 

"  My  child,  don't  think  of  them  for  a  moment.  I  'm  going 
to  bathe  your  head.  Shut  your  eyes,  and  you  may  drop  off 
into  a  pleasant  little  nap."' 

"  When  I  wake  up  will  you  be  right  there  a-lookin'  at  me  ?  " 

"Yes,  dear." 

Gem  smiled,  and  closed  his  eyes. 

He  dozed  a  few  moments,  then  started  up  wildly  and  clung 
to  Leigh. 

"  What  is  it,  little  one?" 


ONE     SUMMER. 


151 


"  I  thought  you  was  gone.     Marm  was  a-pullin'  yer  off." 
"  You  dreamed  it,  dear/'  she  said  softly.     "  I  came  to  take 

care  of  you,  and  I  promise  you  I  will  stay.     Do  not  be  afraid. 

No  one  will  take  me  away  from  you." 


152  ONE     SUMMER. 

"  Yer  're  awful  good/'  whispered  the  boy.  "  What  makes 
yer?" 

"  What  makes  me  good  to  you  ?  Because  you  are  my 
precious  little  Gem,  and  my  knight,  you  know." 

Full  of  regret  at  seeing  her  merry  little  comrade  lying  ill 
before  her,  pitying  the  sick  child  who  seemed  worse  than 
motherless,  loving  him  more  than  ever  before  because  he  ap- 
pealed so  strongly  to  her  warm  womanly  sympathies,  she 
stooped  and  touched  his  forehead  with  her  lips,  saying  softly,  — 

"  Be  quiet,  dear.  You  may  sleep  again.  I  will  not  leave 
you." 

Deep  into  Gem's  heart  sank  the  tender  caress.  Again  he 
closed  his  eyes,  and  soon  fell  into  a  restless,  nervous  sleep. 

And  Leigh  sat  watching  him,  and  soothing  him  when  he 
would  wake,  by  her  calm  and  sweet  presence  and  low,  loving 
voice. 

Beyond  the  closed  door,  Philip,  in  the  hot  kitchen,  was 
throwing  sops  to  Cerberus. 


CHAPTER    XII. 

"  It  is  best  to  begin  with  a  little  aversion." 

Mrs.  Malaprop. 


^ABDON  me,  Miss  Doane,  but  why  should  you  ?  " 
"  Pardon  me,  Mr.   Ogden,  but  why  should  I 
not?" 

Standing  out  in  the  cottage-porch,  they  looked 
steadily  at  each  other  in  the  soft  summer  twilight.  Already 
there  were  symptoms  of  dissension  within  the  newly  formed 
League.  Upon  Leigh's  face  was  determination ;  upon  Philip's, 
disapproval. 

"  I  may  take  a  liberty  in  expressing  my  opinion,"  said 
Philip,  somewhat  stiffly,  "  but  if  you  will  permit  me  to  speak 
plainly,  I  see  no  reason  why  you  should  give  yourself  so  much 
unnecessary  trouble." 


154  ONE     SUMMER. 

"Gem  wants  me." 

"  I  presume  he  does.  It  is  not  surprising  that  he  should. 
Florence  Nightingales  do  not  abound  in  this  family.  Still, 
Jim  and  I  don't  quarrel  much,  and  if  you  will  resign  him  to 
me  for  to-night,  I  will  agree,  to  call  at  Miss  Phipps's  for  you 
to-morrow  morning  at  any  unearthly  hour  you  will  indicate." 

"  You  are  very  kind,  but  Gem  wants  me,"  reiterated  Leigh, 
as  if  that  simple  fact  settled  the  matter. 

Philip,  with  concealed  impatience,  wondered  at  the  unrea- 
soning feminine  persistence  he  was  encountering.  That  he 
was  equally  persistent  did  not,  of  course,  occur  to  him. 

"  Ought  you  to  stay,  Miss  Doane  ?  It  is  very  benevolent 
in  you,  no  doubt,  but  —  pardon  me  —  is  it  not  also  rather 
Quixotic  ?  Jim  is  in  no  danger ;  my  bungling  ministrations 
to-night,  though  a  painful  contrast  to  yours,  won't  kill  him, 
and  I  can  shield  him  from  the  attacks  of  the  harpy.  You  had 
better  allow  me  to  take  you  back.  It  seems  unwise  for  you 
to  run  any  risk  entirely  alone,  and  away  from  your  friends. 
The  child  is  in  reality  nothing  to  you." 

"The  child  is  in  reality  my  friend,"  said  Leigh,  quickly  and 
decidedly ;  "  and  when  I  left  my  family  behind  me,  I  did  not 
also  leave  my  judgment,  nor  my  ordinary  human  instincts." 

"  Nor  your  own  sweet  will,"  thought  Philip. 

"  I  do  not  see  that  the  matter  admits  of  any  further  discus- 
sion, Mr.  Ogden.     Gem  is  my  friend,  and  needs  me." 

"  A  remarkably  fine  sentiment,"  was  Philip's  mental  com- 
ment.    Aloud,  he  said  dryly,  — 

"  Your  friendship,  Miss  Doane,  must  be  a  more  substantial 
and  valuable  thing  than  that  of  most  young  Avomen,  —  accord- 
ing to  books." 


ONE     SUMMER.  155 

"That  may  be,"  she  coolly  retorted;  yet  allow  me  to  say, 
Mr.  Ogden,  that  if  you  have  derived  your  ideas  oil  the  subject 
from  books  only,,  it  is  possible  that  you  have  not  the  faintest 
conception  what  a  good,  honest,  and  substantial  thing-  a  young 
■woman's  friendship  really  is."  Here  the  manner  of  the  spir- 
ited champion  of  her  sex  suddenly  changed,  and  with  a  bright 
smile  and  a  frankly  extended  hand  she  said,  "  But  I  cannot 
afford  to  cpiarrel  with  you,  Mr.  Ogden.  You  deserve  a  mar- 
tyr's crown  for  your  efforts  to-day.  All  day  long  with  that 
woman  !  "  she  exclaimed  with  an  expressive  shudder.  "  I 
really  did  not  know  a  man  "  —  with  a  slight  saucy  emphasis 
—  "  could  be  so  unselfish.  Please  let  me  stay."  And  she 
looked  up  sweetly  at  the  amazed  young  man,  like  an  imploring 
child. 

"  Please  let  her  stay!"  Had  the  skies  fallen?  And  was 
there  anything  in  the  world  so  swift  and  subtle  as  a  woman's 
wit?  He  was  grave  and  displeased,  and  like  lightning  she 
had  changed  her  tactics  for  Gem's  sake.  They  two  for  Gem, 
and  Philip  against  the  household,  was  their  united  battle-cry, 
while  her  little  private  watchword  was,  "For  Gem's  sake." 
Plainly  she  had  said  that  she  could  not  afford  to  quarrel  with 
him.  His  friendliness  was  necessary  to  the  success  of  her 
present  plans ;  and  now  she  stood,  meek  and  dutiful,  with 
appealing  eyes,  knowing  instinctively  it  was  the  surest  method 
of  banishing  the  slight  frown  which  she  herself  had  produced 
upon  Philip's  face.  Yet  her  art  was  so  palpable,  so  childlike, 
so  intentionally  and  honestly  revealed,  that  Philip,  perfectly 
appreciating  the  workings  of  her  mind,  smiled  down  upon  her 
kindly ;  then  with  affected  solemnity,  said,  — 


156  ONE     SUMMER. 

"  Miss  Doane,  if  you  have  gained  your  ideas  of  man's  self- 
ishness from  books  simply ,  it  is  possible  that  you  have  not  the 
faintest  conception  what  a  noble,  grand,  heroic,  and  utterly 
unselfish  creature  he  really  is." 

"  You  are  quite  right.  I  do  not  think  I  have,"  said  Leigh, 
laughing ;  "  but  if  you  will  be  good  enough  to  bring  me  a 
sheet  of  paper  and  a  pencil,  and  kindly  take  a  note  to  Miss 
Phipps,  you  may,  perhaps,  do  much  towards  convincing  me." 

"  I  am  entirely  at  your  service.  I  will  take  you  or  your 
note  to  Miss  Phipps,  as  you  finally  decide ;  but,  for  the  last 
time,  allow  me  to  beg  you  to  leave  Jim  to  me  to-night."  He 
spoke  earnestly  and  kindly. 

She  replied,  "Please  say  no  more  about  it,  Mr.  Ogden. 
You  will  oblige  me  very  much  by  taking  the  note." 

He  silently  bowed,  and  went  to  his  room  for  writing  mate- 
rials. "  Is  there  anything  else  that  I  can  do  ?  "  he  said,  as 
he  took  the  note  from  Leigh's  hand,  and  was  about  to  turn 
towards  the  gate,  where  he  had  left  the  wagon. 

"Nothing,  thank  you,  except  not  to  let  Mrs.  Holbrook 
drive  me  away,"  she  whispered  roguishly.  And  Philip,  as 
self-installed  keeper  and  tamer  of  that  ferocious  person,  pledged 
his  word  to  Leigh  that  she  should  not  be  molested. 

"  Shall  I  bring  your  letters  ?     I  shall  go  to  the  post-office." 

"  Thank  you ;  you  may  bring  them  to-night,  and,  if  not  too 
much  trouble,  whenever  I  am  here.  The  post-office  is  the  least 
agreeable  place  in  Edgecomb." 

"  Yes,  I  know.  It  is  where  the  loafers  most  do  congregate, 
though  they  are,  as  a  rule,  such  Eip  Van  Winkles  they  are 
quite  harmless.  It  will  be  no  trouble  to  me,  Miss  Doane. 
I  consider  it  an  honor  to  act  as  your  postman." 


ONE     SUMMER.  157 

With  an  amicable  good-evening  they  parted.  Again  Philip 
turned  back,  and  approaching  the  cottage-door,  said,  — 

"  I  may  not  see  you  this  evening  when  I  get  back.  If  you 
need  any  help  to-night,  you  will  not  hesitate  to  call  me.  You 
might  get  frightened  or  distressed,  you  know,  and  we  can't 
afford  to  quarrel,  as  you  say,  or  be  too  conventional  just  at 
present.  You  may  command  me  to  an  unlimited  extent  — 
for  the  boy's  sake,"  he  added,  with  a  twinkle  in  his  eye. 

"  I  probably  shall  not  need  to  disturb  you,  as  I  am  not  at 
all  timid ;  but  I  promise  to  hesitate  at  nothing  —  for  Gem's 
sake,"  she  replied,  smiling  mischievously. 

Soon  the  wagon  jolted  out  of  sight.  Leigh  stood  looking 
out  upon  the  dusky  landscape.  The  faint  outline  of  distant 
hills,  the  intense  gloom  of  nearer  forests,  her  conversation 
with  Philip,  and  his  calm,  direct  gaze,  the  strong  salt  breeze 
that  was  blowing  her  hair  back  from  her  temples  as  she  leaned 
against  the  lattice  of  the  porch  a  few  moments  before  return- 
ing to  her  little  charge,  all  seemed  familiar  as  a  twice-told  tale. 
"Why,  this  is  the  way  girls  in  books  feel,"  she  thought. 
"  They  always  have  lived  through  certain  moments  ages  before, 
and  everything  is  like  a  scene  long  past.  Such  nonsensical, 
romantic  sensations  will  never  do  for  me."  And  she  gave  a 
funny  little  shrug  and  tried  to  shake  off  the  impression.  What 
was  Bessie  doing  ?  Would  Mr.  Ogden  bring  her  a  letter,  she 
wondered.  What  unaccountable  things  one's  prejudices  were  ! 
She  half  admitted  that  she  did  not  really  dislike  him  so  much 
as  she  ought,  in  reason.  She  did  not  like  him.  She  never 
should.  If  there  was  anything  she  could  trust  in  the  world, 
it  was  her  intuition,  and  that  unerring  guide  had  pronounced 


158  ONE     SUMMER. 

against  him.  The  fiat  had  gone  forth.  They  were  not  sym- 
pathetic.  Still,  she  must  in  justice  grant  that  he  had  been 
really  kind  that  day.  Keeping  faithful  guard  over  the  Hol- 
brook  all  day  long  in  that  hot  kitchen  was  a  sacrifice,  when  a 
man  might  be  wandering  off  with  his  fishing-rod,  or  skimming 
down  the  river  in  his  wherry.  He  had  done  nothing  that 
would  reflect  any  credit  upon  him  in  the  eyes  of  people  in 
general,  but  she  liked  it  in  him,  it  was  so  purely  kind.  And 
then,  with  a  brief  spasm  of  contrition,  she  asked  herself  if  she 
ought  to  express  her  regret  for  the  combined  misdemeanors  of 
her  unruly  umbrella  and  more  unruly  self.  She  involuntarily 
recoiled  at  the  idea.  Ah,  no !  she  had  felt  so  strongly,  she 
could  not  yet  speak  of  those  things  that  had  passed  away. 
The  new  and  the  old  Mr.  Ogden  were  two  individuals,  one 
little  day  had  proved  such  a  peacemaker.  But  how  could  she 
tell  what  freak  would  seize  her  if  she  should  try  to  make  any 
allusion  to  the  disastrous  opening  of  their  accmaintance,  what 
perverse  fancy  would  transform  the  young  man  whose  manner 
was  so  friendly  to  her,  so  thoughtful  for  Gem,  into  the  self- 
satisfied  anaconda,  pervading  space  in  every  direction,  and 
constantly  rearing  his  hateful  head  before  her  unwilling  eyes  ? 
No,  she  could  not  trust  herself.  She  was  too  capricious. 
Things  might  remain  as  they  were,  and  when  Tom  and  Bessie 
came  she  might  dare,  reinforced  so  strongly,  to  ask  Mr.  Ogden's 
pardon  once  for  all  for  whatever  heinous  offences  she  had 
committed ;  and  then  her  conscience  —  whose  demands  were 
not  very  clamorous  on  that  point  —  would  be  appeased,  and 
Mr.  Ogden  would  depart,  and  her  summer's  experience  would 
be  only  an  episode  for  Bessie  and  herself  to  talk  over,  and 


ONE     SUMMER.  1 59 

that  would  be  the  end  of  it.  But  surely  now  she  need  not 
precipitate  matters,  stir  the  peaceful  waters  until  once  more 
they  would  become  turbid.  The  truth  was,  they  were  not 
friends.  But  she  assured  herself,  with  lofty  pride,  her  mind 
was  not  so  narrow  as  to  refuse  to  recognize  obviously  admirable 
traits,  even  in  an  enemy.  He  had  been  kind,  useful,  unselfish, 
and  that  was  more  than  men  usually  took  the  trouble  to  be, 
this  experienced  observer  of  the  race  concluded.  And  his 
face  was  not  disagreeable  when  he  looked  that  way,  she  mused. 
"  That  way,"  the  expression  of  which  it  had  pleased  Leigh  to 
approve,  was  the  one  which  had  accompanied  Philip's  final 
offer  of  assistance,  the  look  of  kindly  amusement  with  which 
he  told  her  to  command  him  for  the  boy's  sake.  Immediately, 
as  if  some  one  had  accused  her  of  deserting  her  principles, 
she  told  herself  with  considerable  asperity  that  she  presumed 
even  if  she  did  not  fancy  a  man's  prominent  mental  character- 
istics, that  fact  ought  not  to  prevent  her  from  acknowledging 
that  his  eyes  had  a  pleasant  twinkle,  that  the  lines  of  his  face 
were  strong  and  shrewd,  that  his  head  was  well  set  on  a  pair 
of  broad  shoulders,  and  that  he  had  extremely  good  manners. 
No !  she  hoped,  into  whatever  fault  she  might  fall  through 
the  infirmities  of  her  nature,  that  she  should  never  grow  so 
illiberal  as  to  distort  facts,  simply  from  her  own  private  preju- 
dice. Then  the  enviable  possessor  of  this  superhumanly  clear 
and  unbiassed  judgment  turned  from  the  starlight  and  the  cool 
breeze  and  returned  to  her  post,  determining  that  while  she 
remained  in  the  Holbrook  cottage  she  would  vigorously  wave 
her  flag  of  truce  in  Mr.  Ogden's  face,  "  for  Gem's  sake/'  as 
she  repeatedly  assured  herself. 


l6o  ONE     SUMMER. 

Through  the  woods  rode  Philip  to  do  Leigh's  bidding,  pon- 
dering pleasantly,  for  the  first  time,  upon  the  many  phases  her 
nature  had  exhibited.  Which  aspect  showed  the  girl's  true 
self  ?  Which  manner  was  the  abnormal  one  ?  He  laughingly 
admitted  that  he  knew  not ;  but  that  she  was  bright  and  be- 
witching, and  extremely  fond  of  her  own  way,  was  the  latest 
impression  he  had  formed.  What  new  role  it  might  please 
her  to  assume  in  the  morning  was  beyond  surmise.  "  Colors 
seen  by  candlelight  do  not  look  the  same  by  day."  But  this 
he  resolved,  that  while  he  would  be  her  most  faithful  servant 
and  ally  in  every  matter  wherein  Jim  was  directly  or  remotely 
concerned,  he  would  be  carefnl  not  to  presume  upon  the  famil- 
iar and  friendly  relations  so  established.  Until  Miss  Doane 
made  it  evident  that  he  Avas  personally,  and  not  "  for  Gem's 
sake,"  entitled  to  ordinarily  amicable  treatment,  he  would 
studiously  avoid  infringing  upon  her  divine  right  to  be  let 
alone,  which  she  had  clearly  proclaimed  to  him.  Their  present 
"platform  "  was  good  for  this  day  only,  or  at  least  for  Jim's 
illness ;  and  when  the  hollow  and  unsubstantial  thing  should 
vanish  in  thin  air,  it  was  possible  Miss  Doane's  smiles  would 
also  take  to  themselves  wings ;  it  therefore  was  fitting  that  a 
wise  man  should  be  prudent,  and  consider  his  ways,  and  not 
put  his  trust  in  a  treaty  of  peace  of  a  manifestly  ephemeral 
nature,  and  made  by  a  beautiful  but  kaleidoscopic  young  wo- 
man. "  She  can  be  charming  and  sunny  as  the  day  ;  but  if 
she  be  not  so  to  me  for  my  own  merits,  Avhat  care  I  how  tran- 
scendentally  agreeable  she  be  !  "  he  coolly  thought.  And  then 
he  vowed  a  solemn  vow.  Miss  Doane  should  allude  to  their 
woful  encounter,  or  never  should  the  matter  cross  his  lips ;  and 


ONE     SUMMER.  l6l 

she  should  first  express  one  little  word  of  regret  for  her  recep- 
tion of  him  at  the  fort,  or  he  would  never  ask  her  pardon  for 
his  various  delinquencies.  If  she  would  take  one  step  towards 
him  in  honest  apology,  he  would  be  willing  to  walk  miles  to 
meet  her,  he  knew  well ;  but  she  must  make  the  first  advance. 
Once  he  had  begun  in  good  faith  to  express  his  contrition,  and 
she  had  repulsed  him.  Now  he  would  be  passive,  and  await 
some  active  demonstration  from  her.  So  he  buckled  on  his 
armor  of  obstinacy,  because,  though  he  did  not  admit  it,  he 
was  in  peril  from  the  unconscious  attacks  of  the  plausible, 
sweet-voiced,  friendly  enemy  who  had  stood  talking  with  him 
in  the  porch. 

Later,  when  he  returned,  and  had  put  up  his  horse,  and 
walked  in  at  the  back  door,  with  the  freedom  and  independence 
of  a  son  of  the  soil,  he  found  a  maiden  all  forlorn  crouching 
disconsolately  upon  a  low  stool  by  the  cold  kitchen  stove. 
The  light  was  dim,  but  the  length  and  prominence  of  the 
elbows  revealed  Jane  Maria.  She  was  sobbing,  and  evidently 
in  much  distress.  Too  frequently  had  Philip  seen  her  in  grief 
to  be  amazed,  and  he  ventured  a  word  of  comfort  to  the  un- 
gainly likeness  of  Cinderella  mourning  amid  the  ashes  of  the 
desolate  hearthstone. 

"  '  Tears,  idle  tears  ! '  Miss  Jennie ;  and  what  was  it  to-day  ? 
What  have  you  done  that  you  ought  not  to  have  done,  or  not 
done  that  you  ought  to  have  done,  and  has  the  mother  been 
remonstrating  ?  "  he  asked  lightly. 

"No,  sir,  't  ain't  that,  it 's  Jimmie." 

"  So  ?  And  what  can  the  boy  have  done  to  tease  you  in 
his  present  condition  ?  " 


l62  ONE     SUMMER. 

" No,  sir,  't  ain't  that.  I  wish  he  hed/'  she  said  with  a 
fresh  burst  of  tears. 

It  had  become  Philip's  destiny  of  late  to  observe  more 
clearly  than  ever  before  the  complex  workings  of  the  feminine 
nature.  He  flattered  himself  that  he  was  beginning  to  be 
hardened  to  Miss  Doane's  "  bewilderingly  various  combina- 
tions," to  quote  from  the  eloquent  advertisements  of  the  sen- 
sational plays ;  but  that  Jane  Maria's  silly,  simple  little 
mind  should  develop  in  any  unexpected  way  was  indeed  a  sur- 
prise. 

"  Suppose  you  try  to  stop  crying,  and  take  this  package  to 
Miss  Doane,  tell  her  there  were  no  letters  for  her,  and  ask  her 
how  Jim  seems." 

She  went  obediently,  and  returned  with  Miss  Doane's  thanks 
for  Mr.  Ogden,  and  Jiminie  seemed  restless  and  nervous  and 
full  of  pain,  but  she  hoped  to  be  able  to  quiet  him. 

"  I  hope  she  will,"  said  Philip,  heartily.  "  And  now,  Miss 
Jennie,  tell  me  why  you  feel  so  distressed  about  him." 

"  Cos  he  spoke  so  pleasant-like  to  the  young  lady,  and  cos 
his  back  and  his  head  hurts  him,  and  cos  he  ain't  said  nothin' 
about  my  elbows  sence  he  was  sick." 

"  Ah,  I  see  !  And  you  think  these  symptoms  so  unnatural 
that  you  feel  alarmed,  —  afraid  he  won't  recover." 

"  I  was  afraid  he  was  a-repentin',  and  they  'most  allers  re- 
pents just  before  they  dies,  and  nobody  ever  died  here,  and  I 
don't  want  Jimmie  ter."  And  the  poor  girl  sobbed  convul- 
sively. 

Her  grief,  though  ludicrous,  was  heartfelt. 

"  But  he  will  not,"  said  Philip,  confidently.     "  Don't  shed 


ONE     SUMMER.  163 

another  tear  for  him.  He  has  not  repented  enough  to  hurt 
himself,  and  will  live  to  torment  you  many  a  long  year." 

This  charming  prospect  consoled  her  immensely.  She  could 
not  doubt,  for  Philip  had  spoken. 

"  It  seems,  then,  that  you  are  fond  of  the  boy,  Miss  Jen- 
nie ?  " 

She  looked  up  doubtfully.  "I  don'  know.  I  ain't  fond  of 
him  when  he  calls  me  names,  and  jumps  at  me  in  the  dark. 
He  ain't  a  bit  like  the  lady  I-mer-gin's  little  brother.  He 
was  tall  an'  pale  an'  had  long  curls,  an'  wore  a  black  velvet 
cloak  lined  with  crimson  satin,  an'  he  used  to  say,  '  What  ho  ! 
Without  there  !     Hither,  minion  ! '  " 

"Jim  could  say  that  without  any  difficulty,"  said  Philip, 
soberly.  "  He  is  not  tall,  —  small  for  his  age,  I  should  say, 
but  likely  to  start  up  some  day  and  grow  like  a  weed ;  and 
he  will  be  pale  enough  to  please  you  when  he  gets  up  from  his 
illness.  As  to  the  gewgaws,  they  might  easily  be  hired  at  any 
theatrical  outfitter's,  and  Jim's  curls  would  grow  longer  if 
your  mother  would  n't  cut  them  off.  There  are  some  radical 
differences,  I  admit,  between  your  favorite  and  Jimmie,  but 
Jim's  the  better  fellow." 

"  You  don't  say  so  ! "  exclaimed  the  amazed  Jane  Maria. 

"  I  do,  emphatically.  Don't  you  see,  Miss  Jennie,  that 
your  Lord  Pitz  Walter  is  a  milk-sop,  while  Jim  is  a  little 
man  ?  » 

It  was  evident  that  Jane  failed  to  appreciate  the  distinction. 
Philip  looked  half  quizzically,  half  pityingly  at  the  lank,  awk- 
ward girl  who  stood  in  the  dimly  lighted,  homely  kitchen, 
leaning  her  arms  on  the  high  back  of  an  old-fashioned  chair. 


164  ONE     SUMMER. 

The  tall  clock  in  the  corner  ticked  monotonously,  and  she 
remained  motionless,  lost  in  her  silly  dreams. 

"  Poor  child  !  Poor  overworked  drudge  !  No  wonder  she 
clings  to  her  Pitz  Walters  and  spangles  and  aristocratic  pallor, 
as  a  contrast  to  her  daily  life,"  thought  Philip.  "  Yet  this 
half-awakened  affection  for  Jim  might  be  utilized,  perhaps." 

"  Yes,"  he  continued,  "Jim  is  a  pretty  good  boy,  as  boys 
go.  I  like  him.  Miss  Doane  likes  him.  He  's  likely  to 
have  a  hard  time  of  it  too.  Miss  Jennie,  he  has  been  the 
plague  of  your  life,  and  will  be  again,  no  doubt.  His  angelic 
wings  have  not  yet  sprouted.  But  you  can  be  of  use  to  him 
if  you  want  to  be ;  and  if  you  watcli  Miss  Doane,  who  has 
had  more  experience  as  a  nurse  than  you,  you  will  soon  see 
just  what  to  do." 

"  Yes,  sir.  She  's  handy  and  spry,  ain't  she  ?  I  can't  be 
like  her." 

"  No  two  people  are  alike ;  but  you  are  Jim's  sister,  and  it 
is  the  tiling,  I  suppose,  for  sisters  to  take  care  of  brothers 
when  they  are  ill.  If  you  do  not  know  how,  you  can  learn  ; 
only  do  not  bury  yourself  in  the  '  Haunted  Homes  of  Hills- 
dale.' I  '11  tell  you  what.  If  you  will  let  that  trash  alone,  I 
will  send  you  down  a  box  of  books  Avhen  I  get  back  to  the 
city,  enough  to  last  you  all  whiter.  But  do  not  go  about 
dreaming  of  your  magnificent,  high-flown  friends,  or  you  will 
spill  Jim's  medicine  and  burn  his  gruel.  There  is  not  room 
enough  in  the  cottage,  just  now,  for  your  family,  Miss  Doane, 
and  me,  and  Lord  What's-his-name,  my  Lady  Terrapin,  and 
Pitz  Milk-sop.     Let 's  crowd  the  nobility  out,  Miss  Jennie." 

He  spoke  in  a  good-humored,  jesting  way,  as  he  had  some- 


ONE     SUMMER.  165 

times  before  done  with  regard  to  these  same  lofty  person- 
ages. 

"  I  know  I  'm  always  a-forgettiti'  after  I  've  been  a-readin'. 
I  won't  read  another  word  while  Jim  's  sick/'  she  said  ear- 
nestly. 

"  That  is  a  good,  sensible  girl.  Good  night."  And,  taking 
his  candle,  Philip  went  to  his  room  with  a  consciousness  that 
he  was  rapidly  learning  to  adapt  himself  to  curious  and  un- 
foreseen circumstances,  and  not  knowing  which  was  the  oddest 
position  for  a  hitherto  solitary  and  self-absorbed  young  bach- 
elor to  fill, — that  of  keeper  of  the  terrific  harpy,  errand-boy 
and  slave  of  his  brilliant  young  enemy,  or  assuager  of  the 
tears  of  rustic  maidenhood. 

He  heard  nothing  as  he  passed  Gem's  room ;  hut  later, 
from  time  to  time,  various  sounds  reached  him,  —  Leigh's 
light,  rapid  step  as  she  ministered  to  the  wants  of  the  invalid, 
her  voice  with  its  low,  caressing  cadence,  an  occasional  weary 
word  from  Gem.  Through  the  long  night-Matches  her  patient 
care  was  unremitting.  She  had  opened  the  door,  that  Gem 
might  have  more  air ;  and  far  into  the  morning,  softly  yet 
distinctly  through  the  quiet  house  came  the  words  of  a  song- 
she  was  singing. 

"  Clear  and  cool,  clear  and  cool, 
By  laughing  shallow  and  dreaming  pool. 
Cool  and  clear,  cool  and  clear, 
By  shining  shingle  and  foaming  weir," 

rippled  the  tender  voice,  and  the  restless  child  lay  hushed  and 
calmed. 

"  Undented  for  the  undented  ; 
Play  by  ine,  bathe  in  me,  mother  and  child." 


l66  ONE     SUMMER. 

And  the  pure,  sweet  tones  "  echoed  along  the  vacant  hall," 
and  found  a  resting-place  above  in  the  heart  of  the  silent 
listener. 

Pained  and  sad,  like  the  burden  of  her  song,  was  the  girl's 
voice  as  she  sang  the  second  verse  ;  and 

"  Who  dare  sport  with  the  sin-detiled  ? 

Shrink  from  me,  turn  from  me,  mother  and  child ! " 

came  almost  with  a  shudder. 

"  Strong  and  free,  strong  and  free, 
The  floodgates  are  open  away  to  the  sea, 
Free  and  strong,  free  and  strong, 
Cleansing  my  streams  as  I  hurry  along 
To  the  golden  sands  and  the  leaping  bar 
And  the  taintless  tide  that  awaits  me  afar." 

Clearer  and  fuller  rang  the  voice  in  the  glad  rush  of  the 
song,  and 

"As  I  lose  myself  in  the  infinite  main, 
Like  a  soul  that  has  sinned  and  is  pardoned  again," 

sounded  so  full  of  a  passionate  joy  that  Philip  asked  himself, 
wonderingly,  — 

"What  does  that  white-souled  child,  voiced  like  heaven's 
lark,  know  of  sin,  that  she  sings  with  such  a  depth  of  feeling 
about  the  joy  of  a  pardoned  soul  ?  " 

"  Undefiled  for  the  undefiled. 
Play  by  me,  bathe  in  me,  mother  and  child," 

iloated  up  in  the  tender,  restful  tone  again,  and  then  the  voice 
died  away.  All  was  quiet.  Gem  Avas  asleep.  The  cocks 
were  crowing,  and  the  first  faint  tokens  of  the  dawn  showing 


ONE     SUMMER. 


167 


in  the  east,  before  Philip  closed  his  eyes.  And,  though  touched 
by  the  melody  which  rose  so  sweetly  through  the  stillness  of 
the  night,  yet  he  hardened  his  heart  and  resolved  to  hearken 
as  often  as  possible  to  the  voice  of  the  charmer,  but  not  to 
be  a  whit  deceived,  charmed  she  never  so  wisely.  Fair  and 
gracious  and  womanly  was  the  outward  effect  of  keeping  her 
loving  vigils  by  the  side  of  the  suffering  child.  But  might 
it  not  be  a  dissolving-view  ?  Was  it  pure  goodness,  or  only 
another  caprice  ? 


"udW* 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

"  The  exquisite, 
Brown,  blessed  eyes." 

Jean  Ingelow. 

Edgecomb,  Sunday,  August  12,  18 — . 
Tr^SftS  EAR  TOM,  —  Some  men  achieve  meanness,  and  some 
9t$  have  meanness  thrust  upon  them.  To  the  latter  class 
|s  I  belong,  being  forced  to  tell  tales  of  your  sister,  or, 
by  remaining  silent,  to  virtually  approve  of  the  bad 
state  of  things  down  here.  Miss  Doane,  no  doubt,  frankly  gives 
her  view  of  the  matter ;  but  people  see  things  differently.  She  is 
hovering  over  the  bedside  of  our  common  friend  Jim.  You  know, 
of  course,  who  Jim  is,  and  Miss  Doane's  regard  for  Jim,  and  Jim's 
varied  fascinations  ;  but,  granting  that  he  is  Phoebus  Apollo  himself, 
it  does  not  follow  that  Miss  Doane  should  throw  herself  under  his 
chariot-wheels  and  be  crushed  in  pieces.  If  she  would  content 
herself  with  flitting  in  and  out  of  the  room  in  an  atmosphere  of 
airy  beneficence,  smiles,  and  floAvers,  after  the  approved  fashion  of 
young  women  upon  the  stage,  I  should  not  trouble  myself  to  report 
at  headquarters.  The  facts  are  these :  She  stays  day  and  night. 
Slie  has  a  steady,  business-like  air  which  fills  me  with  amazement. 
She  evinces  a  determination  to  remain  until  the  last  gun  is  fired, 
and,  worst   of  all,  she   works.     My   humble   remonstrance,    once 


ONE     SUMMER.  169 

offered,  had  no  more  effect  upon  her  than  the  idle  wind,  and  I  have 
not  the  honor  of  being  sufficiently  in  Miss  Doane's  good  graces  to 
take  the  liberty  of  expressing  my  opinion  a  second  time.  Never, 
apparently,  was  there  a  young  woman  more  benevolent,  more  effi- 
cient, more  exclusively  governed  by  her  own  ideas  and  wishes,  and 
more  directly  on  the  road  to  tiring  herself  out  and  getting  ill. 
All  of  which  is  respectfully  submitted. 

Yours, 

Philip. 

Miles  and  miles  from  Edgecomb,  in  a  pretty  breakfast-room, 
where  everything  was  charming  except  the  temperature,  this 
letter  was  read  by  the  persons  whom  Miss  Doane's  conduct 
most  nearly  affected. 

Tom  read  it.  Bessie  read  it.  They  looked  at  each  other 
inquiringly. 

"Well,  Tom?" 

"  Madam,  it  is  not  well  j  it  is  ill.  It  is  reprehensible ;  it 
is  pernicious.  Next  week,  the  majesty  of  the  law  —  which  is 
I  —  and  the  claim  of  family  affection  —  which  is  you  —  will 
fall  like  a  thunderbolt  upon  that  misguided  girl." 

"  Like  two  thunderbolts,  Tom,  dear.  But  don't  get  elo- 
cpient.  It 's  too  warm,  and  it  makes  your  forehead  shine. 
Please  don't  mistake  me  for  an  enlightened  jury.  1  'm  sure 
I  don't  see  why  you  should.  I  don't  look  like  one.  Eat 
another  peach,  and  calm  yourself,  my  liege." 

"Your  which?  Did  I  understand  you  to  say  your  liege? 
Heavens  and  earth  !     What  fiendish  sarcasm  is  this  ?  " 

"  Did  I  not  tell  you,  dear,  that  it  makes  your  forehead  shine 
unbecomingly  to  exert  yourself  so  much  ?  " 


170  ONE     SUMMER. 

"  Madam,  that  moisture  which  offends  your  weakly  fastidi- 
ous eye  emanates  from  and  betrays  the  workings  of  my  massive 
intellect,  which  is  now  trying  to  solve  this  problem  :  Why 
did  I  marry  a  woman  who  had  such  a  sister  ?  " 

"  You  married  me,  my  beloved,  because  you  could  not  help 
yourself,  —  I  was  so  perfectly  bewitching.  And  I  married  you 
because  I  was  not  so  well  acquainted  as  I  now  am  with  the 
glaring  defects  in  your  character.  As  for  Leigh,  she  is  doing 
exactly  right,  as  she  always  does,  and  you  know  it." 

"  I  know,  and  evidently  Ogden  knows,  that  she  is  a  perverse 
and  headstrong  girl,  and  you  are  as  illogical  as  the  rest  of  your 
charming  sex  —  whose  abject  slave,  I  will  remark  in  parenthe- 
sis, I  am  —  in  deserting  the  man  yon  promised  to  honor  and 
obey,  and  enrolling  under  Leigh's  banner  when  you  do  not 
know  the  circumstances." 

"Oh!  Oh!  Oh!"  exclaimed  Bessie,  despairingly.  "Did 
ever  a  man,  since  the  earth  was  made,  talk  ten  minutes  without 
dragging  in  what  he  calls  our  want  of  logic  ?  And  what  does 
logic  amount  to,  I  'd  like  to  know  ?  And  who  cares  about 
logic  ?  It  is  not  logic  that  we  are  discussing,  —  it  is  Leigh, 
and  she  is  doing  perfectly  right." 

"  My  love,  allow  me  to  suggest  that  you  take  another  peach 
and  calm  yourself.  Your  manner  lacks  tranquillity.  The 
ladies  of  the  Vere  de  Vere  family  were  never  known  to  talk 
the  crimp  out  of  their  hair,  as  my  friend  Mr.  Tennyson  feel- 
ingly remarks.  Believe  me,  my  fair  one,  your  former  elegant 
indolence  was  more  becoming." 

"  Tom,  you  are  a  provoking  boy.  Now,  why  is  it  not  quite 
as  logical  in  me  to  side  with  Leigh,  without  positively  knowing 


ONE     SUMMER.  17l 

all  the  circumstances,  as  it  is  for  you  to  agree  with  Mr.  Ogden 
simply,  because  lie  's  a  man  ?  " 

"  But  I  thought  logic  was  barred  out  of  this  conversation." 

"  Dear,  if  you  can  possibly  control  that  giant  intellect  for 
which  you,  and  you  only,  entertain  such  profound  reverence, 
stop  its  '  rare  and  radiant  '  witticisms  for  ten  minutes  and  listen 
to  me.  Of  course  Leigh  is  right,  and  she  will  not  be  ill,  for 
she  never  was." 

"  Magnificent  reasoning.  Incontrovertible,"  muttered  Tom. 
"  She  never  died,  but  I  presume  —  " 

"  Be  quiet,  you  wretched  boy.  I  'm  talking  now.  Leigh 
is  perfectly  right,  and  —  " 

"  My  dear,  dear  Bessie,  nothing  in  the  world  affords  me 
such  pure  delight  as  the  sound  of  your  beloved  voice  ;  but 
you  have  said  and  reiterated  f  Leigh  is  right '  so  many  times, 
that  I  must  remind  you  that  '  the  dignity  of  truth  is  lost  in 
much  protesting.'  " 

"  When  you  are  afraid  of  being  routed  utterly,  you  always 
quote  Shakespeare  at  me.  He  is  your  last  resort ;  but  I  know, 
the  moment  you  begin  to  brandish  him,  it  is  a  confession  of 
weakness  on  your  part,  and  he  does  n't  intimidate  me  in  the 
Least.  Xow,  sir,  I  will  inform  you  —  as  I  should  have  done 
some  time  ago,  if  you  had  not  interfered  and  interrupted  and 
enjoyed  hearing  yourself  talk  —  that  we  will  start  for  Edge- 
comb  Monday  morning ;  and  what  I  have  been  trying  to  tell 
you  is  that  I  had  determined  to  go  then,  anyway,  before  Mr. 
Ogden's  letter  came." 

"  You  had,  had  you  ?  You  bold  and  resolute  woman ! 
You  Semiramis  —  you  Judith  —  you  Artemisia  —  " 


172  ONE     SUMMER. 

"  I  believe  those  are  all  the  names  you  know,  dear,  without 
referring  to  the  ( Famous  "Women  of  Antiquity/  You  '11  find 
it  at  the  right  of  the  fourth  shelf  in  the  library/'  suggested 
Bessie,  with  a  most  impudent  drawl. 

"'Entreat  me  not  to  leave  thee/  "  sang  Tom,  mockingly. 

"  Certainly  not,  if  you  '11  be  sensible.  Really,  Tom,  I  am 
not  afraid  Leigh  will  be  ill,  though  I  shall  do  all  I  can  to 
rejieve  her.  I  am  so  glad  to  go  away  from  this  hot,  dusty 
city.  We  must  go,  if  we  are  ever  going.  And,  Tom  dear, 
I  'm  so  happy  that  you  can  go  too." 

"  Perfidious  woman,  no  blandishments  !  You  were  actually 
intending  to  go  without  me." 

"  Certainly." 

"  And  you  mean  to  help  Leigh  in  her  nefarious  under- 
taking ?  " 

"  That  is  my  intention." 

"  And  she  is  absolute  perfection,  as  usual?  " 

"She  is." 

"  And  Ogden  and  I  are  imbeciles  ?  " 

"  If  you  fancy  the  word,  —  yes." 

"  My  dear,  I  will  drag  my  crushed  atoms  into  the  library, 
and  answer  Ogden's  letter." 

He  withdrew,  only  to  return  in  a  moment,  and  put  Ins  head 
in  the  door  for  a  parting  shot. 

"  Mrs.  Otis,  I  have  just  discovered  the  grand  mistake  of 
my  life.  Instead  of  marrying  you,  and  having  you  and  your 
sister  agree  in  thought,  word,  and  deed,  ad  nauseam,  and  there- 
by make  my  life  miserable,  I  ought  to  have  married  both  of 
you,  and  emigrated  to  Utah,  and  then  you  would  fight  deli- 


ONE     SUMMER.  173 

ciously,  and  I  should  have  some  peace.     '  Happy  thought ! ' 

It  may  not  be  too  late  !  " 

"  You  goose  !     Leigh  would  n't  look  at  you  !  " 

Mr.  Otis  bowed  his  vanquished  head,  departed,  wrote  to  his 

friend  as  follows  :  — 

Wednesday,  August  15,  18 — . 

My  dear  Ogden,  —  Yours  received.  Heaven  only  knows  what 
the  women  will  do  next.  My  wife  says  she  is  going  to  Edgecomb 
next  week,  to  be  a  ministering  spirit  like  unto  her  sister,  and  I 
expert  the  two  together  will  twang  their  angelic  harp-strings  in 
our  ears,  and  vex  our  righteous  souls.  Can't  anything  be  done  to 
hurry  the  youngster  into  a  comfortable  convalescence?  Blake's 
yacht  will  be  round  there  in  the  course  of  a  couple  of  weeks,  and 
the  girls  are  good  sailors,  and  would  like  a  trip  more  than  any- 
thing, if  they  could  be  torn  from  their  crochets  and  that  boy.  I  flatter 
myself  I  have  some  influence  upon  each  individually.  Together, 
they  are  stronger  than  the  rock  of  Gibraltar,  and  I  the  most 
helpless  and  victimized  of  men.  I  rely  on  you  to  poison  young 
Holbrook,  or  get  him  well  instanter.  We  shall  probably  arrive 
Wednesday  next. 

Yours, 

Tom. 

And  Bessie  wrote  :  — 

Leigh,  dear,  —  We  shall  actually  leave  Monday,  and  Tom  is 
making  the  same  charming  announcement  to  your  Mr.  Ogden,  who, 
by  the  way,  says  that  you  are  working  too  hard,  and  that  you  will 
be  ill,  and  that  you  have  a  will  of  your  own,  —  and  what  would 
you  be  worth  if  you  had  not,  I  'd  like  to  inquire !  Tom  and  I 
have  just  had  a  delicious  little  tiff  about  you,  and  I  would  n't  have 
you  ill  now  for  anything  in  the  world,  because  those  two  superior 


174  ONE     SUMMER. 

beings  have  declared  you  will  be.  You  won't,  will  you,  clear?  Is 
the  poor  boy  having  a  very  hard  time  ?  I  have  missed  your  long 
letters  so,  lately,  and  the  sea-breezes  they  seemed  to  bring  with  them. 
Never  again  will  I  be  a  dutiful  wife,  and  wait  for  Tom,  —  never ! 
But  it  would  have  been  hard  for  the  dear  old  boy  to  stay  here  with- 
out me  to  torment  him,  wouldn't  it?  He  would  have  been  so 
lonely  I  'm  glad  I  waited,  and  perhaps  Ave  '11  enjoy  everything  all 
the  more,  after  the  delay  and  the  doubt.  I  am  perfectly  wild  to 
see  you,  and  so  curious  about  Edgecomb,  and  the  farm-house  where 
Gem  is,  and  the  long  girl,  and  the  dreadful  woman,  and  especially 
about  Mr.  Ogden.  You  do  not  rave  about  him  so  violently  as  you 
did,  but  it  must  be  extremely  annoying  to  meet  him  constantly 
after  all  that  has  happened.  It 's  too  bad,  dear  !  And  if  he  's  on 
the  yacht,  it  will  ruin  the  trip  for  you,  will  it  not  ?  If  only  Tom 
and  Mr.  Blake  did  not  think  so  much  of  him ;  but  they  depend 
upon  his  going.  If  he  had  the  slightest  delicacy  he  would  not  join 
the  party.  But  that,  of  course,  is  too  much  to  expect  of  such  a 
person.  However,  I  will  not  let  any  gloomy  foreboding  interfere 
with  my  present  delight.  Sufficient  unto  the  day  is  the  Ogden 
thereof.  It  will  be  happiness  enough  to  see  you  and  breathe  some 
pure  air,  and  the  Idlewild  may  sink  in  the  "  vasty  deep  "  before  it 
reaches  Edgecomb.  Who  knows  ?  And  there  is  n't  time  to  write 
or  hear  from  you  again.  Blessed  thought !  We  shall  see  you,  I 
believe,  Wednesday,  and  no  one  in  the  world  Avill  be  so  happy  as 
Your  loving 

Bessie. 

Philip  found  this  letter,  with  Tom's,  one  rainy  evening, 
when  he  took  liis  accustomed  tramp  to  the  post-office,  and 
upon  his  return  he  sent  it  in  to  Leigh,  who  received  it  with 
delight,  read  it  smilingly,  but  afterwards  sat  silent  and  thought- 


ONE     SUMMER.  175 

ful,  with  the  open  letter  in  her  hand,  while  Jane,  who  had 
learned,  under  the  young  lady's  kind  and  careful  guidance,  to 
do  many  helpful  things  tolerably  well,  arranged  Gem's  pillow 
and  gave  him  his  medicine  and  drink.  Again  Leigh  read,  "  It 
must  be  extremely  annoying  to  meet  him  constantly/'  and, 
"If  he  is  on  the  yacht  it  will  ruin  the  trip  for  you."  These 
statements  were  clear  and  strong,  and  authorized  by  herself, 
for  Bessie's  views  were  necessarily  but  reflections  of  her  own. 
Was  it  so,  then?  Would  she  be  sorry  to  have  him  on  the 
yacht?  For  ten  days,  now,  she  had  been  with  Gem.  During 
that  time,  she  had  done  what  she  could  for  the  boy,  too  busy 
to  pause  and  analyze  the  condition'  of  things,  striving  only  to 
avoid  the  Holbrook  quicksands.  She  had  thought  little  of 
herself,  less  perhaps  of  Philip,  yet  unconsciously  had  depended 
much  upon  him.  It  was  natural.  He  was  the  only  person 
of  her  caste  within  reach.  Yet  Bessie's  letter  surprised  her. 
She  did  not  think  Mr.  Ogden  obtuse  and  intrusive.  Her  old 
self  and  her  new  self  had  met,  and  were  staring  at  each  other 
unpleasantly.  She  must  tell  Bessie  what  Mr.  Ogden  had  done 
for  her,  and  Bessie  must  be  grateful  to  him  as  she  was.  Bessie 
must  know  how  thoughtful  he  had  been,  and  that  he  had  saved 
her  from  so  very  many  annoyances,  and  that  he  had  quietly 
ruled  the  whole  queer  household,  and  that  if  ever  she  found 
it  necessary  to  ask  him  to  do  anything  for  her,  he  did  what 
she  wished  as  if  they  had  always  known  each  other,  and  it  was 
the  most  natural  thing  in  the  world  that  he  should  do  it.  She 
had  grown  accustomed  to  the  grave,  steady  look  he  wore  when 
there  was  any  real  need  of  him  in  the  sick-room,  as  well  as  to 
the  appreciative,  quick  glance  with  which  he  would  respond 


176  ONE     SUMMER. 

to  the  involuntary  appeal  for  sympathy  which  her  eyes  would 
make  when  prominent  traits  in  the  Holbrook  family  were  too 
ludicrously  shown.  Leigh  was  in  a  strange  mood.  She  did 
not  understand  herself.  But  it  would  be  only  fair  to  tell 
Bessie  that  Mr.  Ogden's  absence  would  not  increase  her  enjoy- 
ment on  the  yacht.  A  knock  interrupted  her  revery.  Jane 
Maria  opened  the  door. 

"  May  I  come  in  ?  "  said  Philip,  pausing  on  the  threshold 
and  looking  in  pleased  surprise  upon  the  pretty  scene.  A 
bright  fire  of  hemlock  bark  burned  on  the  hearth,  and  threw 
flickering  lights  and  shadows  over  the  room,  giving  an  ideal 
grace  to  the  rough  Avails  and  stiff  furniture.  Gem's  face, 
looking  at  him  from  the  pillows,  as  he  approached  the  bed, 
was  thin  and  pale,  with  large  eager  eyes,  and  the  hand  which 
the  child  held  out  to  him  was  that  of  a  pathetic  and  spiritual- 
ized Jim,  such  as  he  had  never  expected  to  see. 

"  And  how  's  the  boy  to-night  ?  " 

"Pretty  smart.  She's  a-sayin'  things  and  a-singin'. 
You  'd  ought  ter  hear  her.  You  stay,  an'  she  '11  keep  on  !  " 
said  Gem,  languidly. 

Philip  turned,  and  looked  inquiringly  at  Leigh. 

"Certainly  you  may  stay,  Mr.  Ogden,  if  you  like.  You 
need  never  wait  for  my  invitation.     Gem  is  host." 

"  I  would  like  to  stay  if  I  will  not  be  in  the  way.  How 
cheerful  you  are  in  here  !  It  is  rather  a  bad  night  out,  That 
fire  is  an  inspiration.     Yours,  I  presume,  Miss  Doane  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  it  was  so  gloomy  and  cold,  and  the  damp  breezes 
would  creep  in  everywhere,  and  I  thought  a  fire  might  please 
Gem,  and,  to  be  honest,  I  wanted  it  myself  too.     Jane  kindly 


ONE     SUMMER.  177 

brought  in  the  bark,  and  I  made  it.  Is  n't  it  pretty  ?  Gem 
thinks  it 's  great  fun.     He  seems  really  better,  does  he  not?  " 

Philip  replied  in  a  low  tone.  "  He  does  seem  bright  just 
now,  but  he  is  very  variable,  you  know.     The  Doctor  said  —  " 

"  Ah  !  don't,  please,"  she  interrupted  with  a  little  imploring 
gesture.  "Do  prophesy  smooth  things  to-night.  Gem  is 
better.  He  is  really,  and  that  makes  me  happy ;  and  they  are 
coming  next  week,  Mr.  Ogden,  —  my  sister  and  my  brother, 
—  and  that  makes  me  almost  too  happy.  And  it  is  pleasant 
here  to-night,  is  it  not  ?  Hear  the  wind  tearing  about  outside 
and  the  rain  coming  down  in  torrents.  I  like  to  listen  to  the 
storm,  because  my  Gem  is  so  comfortable,  and  my  fire  is  so 
lovely." 

She  spoke  rapidly.  Her  cheeks  were  flushed,  and  her  eyes 
bright  with  excitement. 

"  You  do  look  very  happy,"  Philip  said  kindly,  "  and  you 
have  been  a  little  pale  and  weary  for  a  day  or  two,  have  you 
not  ?  " 

Leigh,  suddenly  grave,  looked  with  downcast  eyes  into  the 
flames. 

"  Have  you  not  been  tired,  lately,  Miss  Doane  ?  "  he  con- 
tinued. "  You  never  admit  that  you  are  fatigued,  but  your 
face  has  told  tales  of  you." 

"  So  have  you,  it  seems,  Mr.  Ogden."  And  she  looked  up 
cpiickly  with  a  smile. 

aAh  !  my  sin  has  found  me  out !  But  you  pardon  me 
because  of  the  happy  result  ?  " 

"  I  will  pardon  you  next  Wednesday,  when  the  happy  re- 
sult will  be  an  accomplished  fact.  I  shall  be  happy  enough  to 
forgive  anybody  for  anything." 


178  ONE     SUMMER. 

"  It  will  be  a  good  day,  then,  for  malefactors  to  present 
themselves  before  yon  ?  "  And  a  vein  of  earnestness  ran 
through  the  light  words. 

"  Happiness  ought  to  make  one  good,  Mr.  Ogden.  I  am 
not  good  ;  but  perhaps  my  blessings,  Wednesday,  will  render 
me  not  only  willing  to  forgive,  but  —  to  be  forgiven  —  which 
is  harder  —  sometimes."  Then,  as  if  she  had  said  more  than 
she  meant,  feeling  rather  than  seeing  Philip's  intent  look,  she 
turned  away  hastily,  and  taking  some  great  pieces  of  bark 
from  a  basket  by  the  chimney,  threw  them  one  by  one  upon 
the  blazing  fire. 

"  Don't  you  like  to  hear  it  crackle  ?  "  she  gayly  asked. 

"  I  like  everything  to-night,"  said  Philip,  with  more  warmth 
in  his  voice  than  Leigh  had  ever  heard.  She  said  nothing, 
but  heaped  more  bark,  piece  by  piece,  upon  the  blaze ;  and 
Philip  admiringly  watched  her  pretty  movements,  and  the 
delighted  child-smile  upon  her  face.  The  brilliant  light  il- 
lumined the  whole  room.  Jane  was  occupied  with  Gem  ;  the 
rain  fell  heavily  outside.  Where  Leigh  and  Philip  stood  there 
was  silence ;  and  for  one  brief  moment,  to  both,  the  storm 
without,  and  Gem  and  his  sister,  seemed  far  away,  and  they 
two  standing  together  in  the  firelight  were  nearer  than  ever 
before.  But  the  moment  passed,  and,  with  it,  its  glow  and 
warmth  and  pleasant  sense  of  nearness. 

"Miss  Leigh,"  said  a  faint  little  voice,  "wasn't  that  a 
jolly  one  ?     Jest  as  good  as  a  bonfire." 

"  0  Gem  dear,  did  n't  it  hurt  your  eyes  ?  I  was  very 
thoughtless." 

"-  Well,  it  hurt  'em  a  little,  p'r'aps  ;  but  I  wish  you  'd  blaze 
her  up  again.     It 's  fun." 


ONE     SUMMER.  l8r 

"  I  must  not,  dear ;  shut  the  poor  eyes,  do.  You  shall 
have  ever  so  much  more  fun  than  this  as  soon  as  you  are  strong 
again,"  she  said  as  a  consolation. 

"  Indeed,  you  shall,  Jim,"  said  Philip,  heartily. 

"Yes,  Jimmie,  you  shall,"  chimed  in  Jane  Maria,  by  way 
of  further  encouragement. 

"O,  come  now,"  said  Gem,  with  a  touch  of  the  old  sauci- 
ness,  "just  let  a  feller  alone,  won't  yer?  I  ain't  a  baby,  if  I 
am  sick,  and  I  ain't  a-goin'  to  cry  cos  Miss  Leigh  won't  blaze 
up  that  ere  bark.  Miss  Leigh,  I  '11  shut  my  eyes  tight  as  a 
drum  if  you  '11  sing  some  more." 

And  Leigh  sang  the  songs  the  boy  liked  best,  without,  ap- 
parently, a  thought  of  Philip,  who  drew  his  chair  back  from 
the  hearth  and  sat  in  the  shade,  while  the  firelight  played  fit- 
fully about  her,  now  falling  upon  the  dainty  hands,  clasped 
lightly  in  her  lap,  now  aspiring,  gleaming  about  the  white 
throat  and  revealing,  for  a  moment,  the  fair  hair  and  dark 
earnest  eyes,  then  sinking  humbly  to  her  feet.  She  did  not 
sing  transcendental,  mystical  love-songs.  She  had  found  that 
they  were  too  fearful  and  wonderful  for  Gem,  —  as  indeed  they 
are  for  many  of  us,  —  and  that  they  did  not  affect  him  pleas- 
antly. He  was,  if  uneducated,  an  honest  critic,  who  unhesi- 
tatingly expressed  his  mind.  A  contented,  quiet  smile  would 
indicate  his  approval,  while  a  contemptuous  "  Pooh,  ain't  no 
sense  in  it !  "  would  suggest  to  Leigh  the  efficacy  of  chang- 
ing her  theme.  She  admired  his  frank,  boyish  scorn  of 
things  he  did  not  understand  or  like,  and  she  exerted  her- 
self to  please  him  far  more  than  she  was  accustomed  to 
try  to  please  some  of  her  drawing-room  critics,  who  received 


l82  ONE     SUMMER. 

her  best  or  poorest  musical  efforts  with  the  invariable  "  How 
charming  !  "  and  without  a  ray  of  real  enthusiasm.  She  had 
learned  to  know  Gem's  favorites  well.  Songs  with  pictures 
and  stories  in  them  pleased  him ;  songs  that  did  not  almost 
end,  and  then  wander  along  helplessly  and  aimlessly  and  die 
away  by  degrees,  but  that  stopped  short  when  they  were  done  ; 
and  especially  songs  with  a  "jingle."  Leigh  had  gone  far 
back  into  past  years,  and  brought  out,  for  Gem's  pleasure, 
scraps  of  melody  she  had  not  sung  since  her  childhood.  A 
motley  throng  of  subjects  her  voice  conjured  up  as  she  sat 
singing  before  the  fire,  in  a  queer  chair  a  hundred  years  old, 
whose  straight,  narrow  back,  surmounted  by  white  wooden 
knobs  with  brass  tops,  rose  far  above  her  head.  She  sang 
bird-songs  and  boat-songs,  cradle-songs  and  echo-songs,  bal- 
lads about  girls  at  spinning-wheels,  and  knights  and  shepherd- 
esses, and  some  swinging  old  cavalier  tunes  that  suggested  the 
clatter  of  horses'  hoofs,  and  once  —  Philip  in  his  dark  corner 
smiled  to  hear  the  bubbling,  sparkling  thing  under  a  New 
England  roof  —  a  bit  of  a  French  drinking-song,  which  Gem 
liked  for  its  gay,  ringing  melody,  and  which  Leigh  did  not 
translate. 

After  a  while  Gem,  soothed  by  the  familiar  tones,  fell  asleep. 
Jane  stole  quietly  from  the  room.  Leigh  sang  gradually  lower 
and  lower,  that  a  sudden  silence  might  not  rouse  the  child. 
She  turned,  listened  a  moment  to  his  breathing,  then  leaned 
her  head  back  with  a  long  sigh.     Philip  came  softly  forward. 

"  You  are  very  tired,  Miss  Doane." 

"Ono!"  said  Leigh,  without  glancing  up. 

"  But  that  deep-drawn  sigh  ?  " 


ONE     SUMMER.  1 83 

"There  was  no  rhyme  nor  reason  in  it,"  she  said,  a  little 
drearily. 

Philip  stood  looking  doubtfully  at  her. 

"  You  do  not  believe  me,  do  you,  Mr.  Ogden  ?  " 

"  If  I  do  not,  you  would  not  think  me  very  civil  to  say  so. 
It  would  be  a  base  return  for  your  kindness  in  allowing  me  to 
hear  you  sing." 

"  But  I  was  not  singing  to  you,"  —  looking  up  for  the  first 
time  with  her  little  audacious  air.  "  I  sang  to  my  Gem. 
Those  were  his  own  particular  songs.  Anybody  who  cared, 
might  listen,  of  course.  But  I  might  make  a  different  selection 
for  you." 

"  Pardon  me.  I  knew  very  well  you  did  not  sing  to  me. 
But  the  '  anybody  '  who  cared  to  listen  was  as  grateful  as  if 
you  had  specially  dedicated  every  song  to  him,  and  if  you 
would  make  a  different  selection  for  me  you  would  make  a 
mistake.  They  were  Gem's  songs,  but  they  were  mine  too. 
I  claim  them,  and  I  shall  keep  them.  I  have  the  most  profound 
respect  for  your  will,  Miss  Doane.  It  is  a  mighty  power. 
But  there  are  some  things  which  even  you  cannot  accomplish. 
You  cannot  recall  the  pleasure  those  songs  have  given  me,  nor 
can  you  convince  me  that  you  are  not  a  very  weary,  over- 
worked young  lady." 

Leigh  was  not  in  a  mood  to  question  his  right  to  say  this, 
and  it  was-  impossible  for  her  not  to  feel  the  kindness  in  his 
voice.  She  did  not  stop  to  ask  herself  why  she  should  or 
should  not  open  her  heart  to  him  as  she  rose  impulsively  and 
said,  — 

"  I  am  not  tired,  Mr.  Ogden.     At  least  I  do  not  think  I  am. 


1 84  ONE     SUMMER. 

I  am  perfectly  well  and  strong,  only  I  am  not  sure  but  that 
I  'm  —  homesick.  It 's  very  absurd,  I  know,  and  weak.  I 
am  quite  ashamed  of  myself/'  she  went  on,  with  a  little  quiver 
in  her  voice. 

Philip  said  nothing,  simply  because  he  knew  not  what  to 
say.  They  stood  in  silence,  while  the  queer  shadows  danced 
about  the  room.  Leigh  continued,  without  the  faintest  con- 
sciousness that  she  was  doing  anything  unusual,  and,  meeting 
the  young  man's  gaze  quite  frankly,  — 

"  I  forgot  it  when  Bessie's  letter  came.  I  was  more  than 
happy  ;  but  now  it  has  come  back,  the  dreary  feeling.  I  never 
was  away  from  her  in  my  life  before,  you  know,  —  and  I  feel 
very,  very  far  away,  —  and  it  has  been  so  long,  and  I  know  I 
am  perfectly  ridiculous,  but  I  do  not  think  I  can  help  it." 
And,  much  to  her  own  surprise,  two  great  tears  crept  into  her 
eyes,  and  still  she  stood  smiling  frankly  at  Philip. 

"  Poor  child  !  "  he  said  involuntarily ;  then  turned  away 
and  paced  up  and  down  the  room.  He  saw  it  all  now ;  of 
course  it  had  been  hard  for  her.  Not  a  soul  for  whom  she 
cared,  except  Gem,  in  the  place.  Young,  inexperienced,  and, 
in  spite  of  her  self-reliant  ways,  dependent  upon  her  home-life. 
Days  and  days,  perhaps,  she  had  been  forlorn  and  desolate  at 
heart,  while  her  face  had  worn  the  pretty  little  cool  smile,  as 
she  gracefully  parried  occasional  unpleasant  thrusts  from  Mrs. 
Holbrook,  patiently  trained  the  willing  but  inefficient  Jane  in 
the  way  she  should  go,  and  "  compassed  "  Gem  with  "  sweet 
observances/''  It  had  not  once  occurred  to  him  but  that  she 
was  enjoying  her  strange  experience,  after  a  fashion.  She 
was  a  brave  girl,  and  only  a  girl,  after  all,  as  she  stood  in  a 


ONE     SUMMER.  185 

dejected,  drooping  way,  looking  sadly  down  upon  the  brass 
andirons  as  if  she  could  read  a  gloomy  prophecy  in  their  shin- 
ing tops.  If  she  were  not  so  physically  weary  that  she  had 
unconsciously  reached  out  for  sympathy,  he  knew  that  she 
would  not  have  confided  in  him.  How  dull  he  had  been,  and 
hard,  actually  arming  himself  against  the  fresh  young  thing ! 
Had  she  not  had  a  right  to  dislike  him,  and  to  manifest  her  dis- 
like plainly,  if  she  wished  ?  He  walked  to  the  bed  and  looked  at 
Gem,  to  the  window  and  stared  out  into  the  night,  then  return- 
ing to  Leigh  stood  waiting  for  her  to  speak.  Suddenly  she 
began  with  a  pretty  petulance,  — 

"  Is  n't  it  just  like  a  woman  to  go  and  do  the  thing  she  wishes 
to  do,  and  do  it  the  very  way  she  wished  to  do  it,  and  then 
cry  about  it  and  complain?"  And  she  looked  as  bright  as  a 
May  morning.     Philip  smiled. 

"  But  you  have  not  cried,  Miss  Doane." 

"  Not  quite,"  she  said ;  and  again  her  eyes  filled  with 
tears ;  "  but,  as  you  see,  I  am  ineffably  silly." 

"  Miss  Doane,"  said  Philip,  really  concerned,  "  this  has  all 
been  too  much  for  you,  —  too  great  a  strain.  Pardon  me,  but 
you  seemed  so  cool,  so  perfectly  self-reliant,  it  never  occurred 
to  me  that  you  could  be  losing  your  courage." 

"  But  I  've  not  lost  it,"  she  returned  with  some  spirit.  "  I 
do  not  know  what  is  the  matter  with  me  to-night.  I  was 
tolerably  good  when  I  felt  so  strangely  here  at  first,  and  tilings 
were  hard,  and  I  was  anxious  about  Gem,  and  did  not  know 
when  my  sister  would  come ;  and  now,  when  there  is  not  the 
slightest  reason,  I  break  down  in  this  absurd  way." 

"  Poor  child  !  "  said  Philip  again.     And  Leigh  forgot  to  re- 


186  ONE     SUMMER. 

sent  the  words  or  the  tone.  Then  he  said  lightly  :  "  Unfortu- 
nately, we  cannot  always  control  our  moods,  Miss  Doane. 
No  doubt,  your  fit  of  the  blues  is  inopportune,  as  you  say. 
So  was  Jim's  illness,  according  to  our  friend  Mrs.  Holbrook. 
We  are  creatures  of  circumstance,  knocked  about  in  spite  of 
ourselves." 

"  But  you  must  think  me  very  foolish." 

"  You  must  think  me  very  dull  not  to  have  seen  this  before." 

"  You  ?  Why  should  you,  and  what  difference  would  it 
have  made  ?  " 

"Not  much,  I  presume;  but  I  might  have  been  able  to 
make  things  easier,  and  to  be  of  some  use." 

"  O  Mr.  Ogden,  you  have  been  very  good  !  Do  you  not 
know  that  you  have  ?  "  said  Leigh,  warmly.  "  I  have  not 
said  much  about  it,  but  I  am  not  ungrateful.  Indeed,  1  am 
not." 

"  Have  I  really  been  good  to  you  ?  "  he  asked,  with  per- 
haps more  eagerness  than  was  quite  necessary  "  for  Gem's 
sake."     Leigh  blushed  and,  with  a  slight  effort,  said,  — 

"  Only  Gem  and  I  know  how  good."  He  saw  she  used 
Gem's  name  as  a  shield.  Again  he  thoughtfully  paced  the 
room. 

"Miss  Doane,  I  have  done  nothing  for  you  or  for  Gem 
which  deserves  aiiy  remembrance.  You  overestimate  trifling 
services  that  cost  me  nothing.  Yet  I  would  presume  to  ask  a 
favor  on  the  strength  of  them,  for  I  fear  it  is  my  only  hope  of 
influencing  you.     Am  I  ungenerous  to  wish  to  be  paid  ?  " 

"  Very,"  said  Leigh,  mischievously. 

"  But  not  unreasonable  ?  " 


ONE    SUMMER.  187 

"  Possibly  not.  It  depends  upon  what  you  are  going  to 
ask."  Then,  with  the  sudden  softening  of  manner  which 
Philip  was  beginning  to  find  bewitching  and  dangerous,  " I 
think  I  shall  say  yes.  You  are  really  kind.  I  do  not  deserve 
that  you  should  be  so  kind/'  she  added  slowly.  Again,  in  the 
careless,  smiling  way  :  "  But  we  do  not  get  exactly  what  we 
deserve,  any  of  us,  —  do  we?  It  is  always  either  more  or 
less.  I  hope  I  shall  never  have  my  just  dues,  —  for  I  should 
get  such  a  wee  grain  from  the  sugar-plums  of  life.  It  is  not 
grand  to  say  so,  but  I  do  not  want  to  see  the  beauty  of  re- 
nunciation.    I  want  to  see  the  sugar-plums." 

Philip  listened,  glad  to  hear  the  merry  tone  again ;  but  he 
noticed  that  after  she  spoke  the  smile  died  quickly  from  her  face. 

"  You  are  plainly  tired  out,"  he  said  earnestly.  "  Do  not 
think  me  presuming,  but  I  must  interfere.  I  should  insist 
upon  driving  you  to  Miss  Phipps's,  late  as  it  is,  if  there  were 
not  a  storm.  You  think  I  would  not  succeed  ?  "  he  added,  as 
Leigh  looked  incredulous.  "  But  you  do  not  know  what  a 
tyrant  I  am  when  I  am  roused,  and  I  am  thoroughly  roused 
to-night,  I  assure  you." 

"  Do  you  scratch  and  bite,  or  only  growl,  Mr.  Ogden  ?  " 

"  I  carry  my  point  amiably,  if  I  can ;  if  not  —  "  He  shook 
his  head  menacingly,  as  a  substitute  for  words. 

"  Curious  preface  to  asking  a  favor,"  said  Leigh. 

"  Ah  !  it  was  to  be  a  favor,  was  it  not  ?  As  a  favor,  then, 
may  I  speak  to  Miss  Jennie,  and  let  her  make  some  arrange- 
ment for  you  to-night?  That  den  in  there  "  —  pointing  to  a 
little  room  which  opened  out  of  Gem's,  and  where  Leigh  occa- 
sionally snatched  an  hour's  sleep  —  "  is  no  place  for  you  to- 
night." 


188  ONE     SUMMER. 

"  Gem  will  not  be  much  care ;  see  how  -well  he  sleeps." 

"  I  am  going  to  stay  here  myself  to-night,"  Philip  said 
decidedly. 

"  Such  a  pretty,  graceful  way  of  asking  a  favor  !  So  depre- 
cating and  humble  !  "  she  retorted. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  Philip,  laughing.  "I  do  not 
intend  to  be  brusque,  but  I  am  very  much  in  earnest.  I  shall 
stay,  and  you  must  go.  A  good  night's  rest  is  what  you  need 
and  what  you  must  have." 

"  Don't  say  another  word.  You  apologize,  and  then  offend 
more  deeply  every  moment.  Three  ( musts  '  in  a  row  !  No 
one  ever  says  '  must '  to  me.     Do  you  really  drive  me  away  ?  " 

"  Certainly  not.  At  least,  not  yet.  I  am  asking  you  to  go 
as  a  favor,  at  present,  you  know." 

"Go  I  must,  evidently,"  laughed  Leigh  ;  "  and  I  think  it 
will  be  more  graceful,  as  well  as  the  part  of  wisdom,  to  grant 
the  favor  rather  than  be  ignominiously  expelled.  I  shall  take 
pleasure,  Mr.  Ogden,  in  obliging  you  and  speaking  to  Jane 
myself."     Philip  bowed  his  thanks,  and  said, — 

"  Will  you  add  to  my  indebtedness  by  going  at  once?  " 

"  I  would  vanish  up  the  chimney  if  I  knew  how  ;  but  being 
only  a  mortal  maiden,  you  must  give  me  time  to  collect  some 
of  my  belongings,"  Leigh  answered,  passing  into  the  other 
room.  Returning,  she  looked  long  and  earnestly  at  Gem,  and 
arranged  a  few  articles  on  a  little  table  at  his  side,  then  stood 
still.     "  You  understand  about  the  medicine,  Mr.  Ogden  ?  " 

"  I  think  I  understand  everything  I  am  expected  to,  except 
why —  " 

"  Why  I  do  not  go  ?  " 


ONE     SUMMER.  189 

"  Exactly,  if  I  may  be  so  bold." 

"  Because  we  are  creatures  of  habit,  and  it  is  my  habit  to 
stay  here ;  and  because  I  am  used  to  my  own  way,  and  it  is 
not  my  way  to  leave  Gem." 

Philip  declined  further  argument.  With  mock  ceremony 
he  opened  the  door,  and  stood  with  the  air  of  one  waiting  to 
bow  her  out  of  the  room. 

"  I  am  not  at  all  sure  that  you  are  even  a  very  polite  tyrant," 
said  Leigh;  "  but  I  am  really  going  now.  Good  night,  Mr. 
Ogden.  Perhaps  I  am  a  little  tired,"  she  added.  Philip 
smiled,  and  held  out  his  hand. 

"  Good  night,  Miss  Doane,  and  pleasant  dreams,  and  thank 
you  for  everything,"  he  said  earnestly,  as  her  hand  rested  in 
his  a  moment. 

Philip  closed  the  door  after  her,  heaped  more  bark  on  the 
fire,  and  sat  down.  From  the  flame,  from  the  ashes,  from  the 
dark  corners  of  the  room,  everywhere  he  saw  looking  out  at  him 
a  pair  of  great,  honest,  brown  eyes,  smiling  through  their  tears. 
He  knew  her  now  for  what  she  was,  he  told  himself.  He  had 
wasted  all  these  precious  days  in  misconceiving  her,  in  arro- 
gantly presuming  to  judge  her.  He  would  never  be  mistaken 
again.  She  might  be  merry  or  sad,  "  or  that  sweet  calm  that 
is  just  between."  She  might  assume,  at  will,  her  bright  or 
sombre  chameleon  colors,  might  one  moment  be  stately  as  a 
cmeen,  the  next  humble  as  a  little  child,  yet  through  all  changes 
he  would  know  her.  In  her  sweet,  earnest  eyes  he  had  seen 
a  blessed  vision  of  her  true  heart.  What  was  lie,  that  she 
should  care  for  him  ;  yet,  could  he  teach  those  eyes  to  look 
kindly  at  him  on  his  own  hearthstone,  he  would  ask  nothing 
more  of  Fate. 


CHAPTER    XIV 


"  There  's  a  pang  in  all  rejoicing, 
A  joy  in  the  heart  of  pain." 

TOM,  is  n't  it  delightful  ?  Nurse,  don't  attempt 
to  get  down  with  baby  in  your  arms.  Mr.  Otis 
will  take  him.  Why,  where  is  Leigh?  "  And, 
«/vsQ9^s*  talking  rapidly  every  moment,  Mrs.  Otis  put  her 
pretty  head  out  of  the  stage  window,  and  eagerly  scrutinized 
Miss  Phipps's  abode. 

The  driver  swung  open  the  door.  The  Otis  family,  an  inter- 
esting group,  and  the  Otis  paraphernalia,  an  imposing  pile  of 
trunks,  baskets,  bags,  and  wraps,  were  deposited  at  the  gate. 

"  Why,  Tom,  where  is  she  ?  Where  can  she  be  ?  "  asked 
Bessie,  in  keen  disappointment,  regarding  her  husband  with 
an  air  of  suspicion,  as  if  he  had  spirited  Leigh  away. 


ONE     SUMMER.  l9l 

"  And  where  's  the  Phipps,  which  is  more  to  the  purpose  ? 
She  's  the  one  about  whom  I  feel  most  concerned.  No  Phipps, 
no  dinner  !  "  said  Tom,  ruefully,  stalking  through  the  deserted 
house  with  the  wondering  Bessie  behind  him.  "Careless 
tenants  they  !  Let 's  take  the  silver  and  go.  I  '11  plead 
emotional  insanity,  induced  by  jolting  fifteen  miles  in  that 
diabolical  stage-coach,  a  hot  August  day." 

"  Tom,  dear  !  don't  joke  any  more.  It 's  that  little  boy," 
said  Bessie,  gravely.  "  He  must  be  worse.  Nothing  else  in 
the  world  would  keep  Leigh." 

"My  dear,  I'm  strongly  inclined  to  think  that  I  might 
continue  to  joke,  even  if  that  little  boy  should  die,  because  I 
never  saw  him,  you  know,  and  I  have  n't  enough  over-soul  to 
feel  very  miserable  about  the  little  chap.  But  I  imagine  you 
are  right.     What  are  you  going  to  do  about  it  ?  " 

"  We  Tl  go  up  stairs,  and  get  the  least  bit  settled,  and  I  Tl 
see  that  nurse  and  baby  are  comfortable,  and  while  you  attend 
to  the  trunks  I  '11  find  something  for  you  to  eat.  Tom  smiled 
admiringly. 

"  Bessie,  for  a  woman  who  crimps  her  hair  and  looks  awfully 
superficial,  you  do  occasionally  evince  an  uncommon  amount 
of  practical  wisdom.  Upon  my  word,  I  never  heard  anything 
neater  in  my  life  than  that  last  hint  of  yours." 

"  And  afterwards,"  continued  Bessie,  "  you  must  take  me 
to  Leigh.  Help  me  up  stairs,  dear.  I  'm  tired.  And  then 
have  the  trunks  brought  up,  if  the  driver  has  come  back." 
As  they  passed  the  door  she  said,  "  Will  you  look  at  him  ? 
Actually,  he  's  reposing,  complacently,  on  my  '  Saratoga,'  with 
my  gray  shawl  for  a  pillow,  and  waiting  for  you  to  help  him, 
is  he  not?     He  has  brought  no  one  with  him." 


192  ONE     SUMMER. 

"  Yes.  I  presume  he  expects  me  to  reward  him  liberally 
for  allowing  me  the  privilege  of  shouldering  my  own  baggage. 
I  always  thought  I  should  like  Arcadia/'  continued  Tom, 
sentimentally.  "  These  ingenuous  ways  appeal  to  my  better 
nature.  I  wish  I  had  a  shepherd's  crook  with  a  blue  ribbon 
on  it,  I  would  like  to  artlessly  punch  the  head  of  that  recum- 
bent youth." 

They  began  to  ascend  the  stairs.  On  the  old-fashioned 
landing,  from  which  arose  two  smaller  nights,  branching  off  to 
the  right  and  left,  Tom  stopped  short  with  a  terrific  shudder. 

"Can't  do  it,  Bessie.  Can't  go  a  step  farther.  I'm 
afraid,  mortally  afraid.  There  's  a  silence  —  a  spell  —  a  what 
do  you  call  it  —  in  this  fateful  mansion.  Don't  you  feel  a 
grewsome  chill  penetrating  your  marrow  ?  " 

"  I  feel  dusty  and  travel-stained,  and  as  if  I  should  like  to 
change  my  dress.  Send  that  man  up  with  the  small  hat-box 
and  my  travelling-bag,  will  you,  dear?  " 

"  But,  you  prosaic,  sordid,  petty  soul,  where,  0  where  do 
you  imagine  all  these  doors  lead?  What  hateful  Errinys 
broods  over  our  wanderings  ?  What  mysteries  are  hidden  be- 
hind these  heavy  oaken  panels,  what  thrilling  tales  of  blood 
and  doom,  what  thing-um-bobs !  "  he  ejaculated  in  a  stage 
whisper. 

"  If  you  must  indulge  in  nights  of  fancy  at  this  inopportune 
time,  the  correct  thing  would  be  to  liken  the  house  to  an  en- 
chanted palace.  I  have  a  suspicion  your  language  is  borrowed 
from  a  dime-novel." 

"  No,  my  love,  from  Thoth,"  remarked  Tom,  solemnly. 

"  And  who,  or  what,  in  the  world  is  Thoth?  " 


ONE     SUMMER.  193 

"  Thoth,  my  poor  ignorant  spouse/'  explained  Tom,  with  a 
bewildering  and  triumphant  smile,  "  was  the  god  of  eloquence 
of  the  ancient  Egyptians,  from  which  elegant  and  exclusive 
race,  by  the  way,  the  Otis  family  is  descended.  We  have  our 
genealogy  complete,  an  unbroken  line,  preserved,  on  papyrus, 
from  an  epoch  anterior  to  the  reign  of  the  Hyksos.  Thoth  is 
a  considerably  older  and  more  aristocratic  deity  than  Apollo. 
You  did  n't  know  it,  did  you,  poor  dear?  " 

"  I  never  could  account  for  it  before,"  said  Bessie,  coolly 
ignoring  his  tone  of  commiseration,  and  gravely  scrutinizing 
her  husband's  genial  countenance,  "  but  now  I  know  why, 
sometimes,  your  features  in  repose  remind  me  of  an  Egyptian 
mummy ;  but  you  cannot  help  it,  can  you,  poor  dear?  Tom, 
we  are  dreadfully  silly.  Do  hurry  with  that  hat-box,  or  I 
shall  go  down  myself."  Tom  descended  three  stairs  obe- 
diently, and  halted.  Bessie  had  glanced  into  Leigh's  room, 
recognized  it,  then  had  entered  her  own  and  thrown  herself, 
gratefully,  into  the  open  arms  of  the  big  chair,  the  only  thing 
in  the  house  that  seemed  to  expect  and  welcome  her. 

"  Bessie,"  called  Tom  from  the  stairs,  "  before  I  go  a  step 
farther,  I  want  to  know  one  thing.  You,  with  your  usual 
felicity  of  expression,  liken  this  house  to  an  enchanted  palace. 
May  I,  O,  may  I  imprint  a  tender  kiss  upon  the  lips  of  the 
sleeping  beauty,  if  I  find  one,  as  I  undoubtedly  shall  in  this 
mysterious  place  ?  Have  I  your  full  and  free  permission,  to 
be  followed  by  no  tearful,  jealous  reproaches  ?  " 

"Certainly,  my  gallant  young  prince,  certainly,"  said 
Bessie,  graciously.  "  Yrou  '11  find  the  fairest  of  the  fair  asleep 
in  nurse's  arms,  down  stairs  ;    but  don't  wake  him,  please. 


194  ONE     SUMMER. 

And,  Tom,"  she  added,  choking  with  laughter,  "there's 
another  one,  —  don't  have  any  scruples  on  my  account,  — 
that  man  sound  asleep  out  on  my  trunks.  You  may  wake  him 
as  soon  as  you  please." 

"Bother!"  said  Tom. 

"  Dear,  was  that  classic  quotation  prevalent  among  the  an- 
cient Egyptians,  and  suggested  by  your  friend  Thoth?  "  came 
languidly  from  the  depths  of  the  great  chair,  in  the  sweetest 
voice  imaginable.  "  Poor  boy  !  You  seem  to  need  to  invoke 
his  aid  often  enough,  even  now.  What  will  you  do  when 
Leigh  comes  ?  " 

"  I  am  going  to  interest  myself,  at  once,  in  Corydon  and 
the  trunks,"  was  the  meek  response.  " '  Some  griefs  gnaw 
deep,'  and  for  '  some  woes  '  work  is  the  only  means  of  re- 
lief." 

An  hour  after,  they  were  driving  to  the  Holbrook  cottage. 
It  was  about  six,  the  close  of  a  hotter  day  than  often  came  to 
breezy  Edgecomb,  even  in  August.  Upon  the  road  they  met 
some  of  the  village  folk,  and  were  greeted  with  supernaturally 
solemn  stares. 

"I  believe  Leigh  is  right,"  said  Tom.  " There  is  some- 
thing uncanny  about  this  place.  I  don't  blame  her  for  being- 
belligerent  in  this  atmosphere.  Moses  himself  would  feel 
pugnacious  here." 

"  It  is  the  dust  in  your  throat  that  makes  you  cross,  dear," 
suggested  the  practical  Bessie.  "  Everything  does  seem  new 
and  strange,  but  I  fancy  it  is  only  because  there  was  no  one  to 
meet  us  at  the  house.     That  child  must  be  very  ill." 

"I  should   say   so,"   ejaculated  Tom.     "Behold  the  vul- 


ONE     SUMMER.  195 

tures  !  "  indicating  several  groups  of  people  standing  silently, 
or  talking  in  low  and  ominous  tones,  at  a  little  distance  from 
the  cottage. 

"  Hush,  dear,  they  mean  it  kindly." 

"  But  what  are  we  going  to  do  now  ?  "  asked  Tom,  du- 
biously, as  they  stood  by  the  roadside  near  where  he  had 
fastened  his  horse.  "  We  certainly  have  no  intention  of  going 
in  where  Leigh  is,  and  perhaps  she  cannot  come  out.  Had  n't 
we  better  go  back?  We  can  do  no  good  here,"  he  said,  with 
a  man's  impatience  at  the  anomalous  position. 

"  We  will  wait  a  moment,"  answered  Bessie,  quietly.  "I 
think  Leigh  will  come.  Perhaps  she  will  see  us.  Dear,  look ; 
little  Gem  must  be  there  where  the  windows  are  so  wide  open 
and.  the  people  are  moving  about,  — and  oh  !  Tom,  dear,  what 
is  that  ?  Is  n't  it  he  groaning  ?  "  And  she  sank  down  on  the 
bank,  putting  her  hands  over  her  ears.  "  How  can  these 
people  have  the  heart  to  stay  so  near,  only  to  listen  to  such 
dreadful  sounds  !  " 

"  The  Evil  One  himself  brought  us  here,  but  in  spite  of  him 
and  his  works  you  are  going  back,"  muttered  Tom,  turning 
the  horse.  "  Pretty  ending  to  the  hard  day  you  've  had.  I 
don't  mean  that  the  ghouls  and  vampires  shall  gloat  over  you, 
my  dear;  and  they  will  if  you  stay  here  much  longer." 

A  tall,  angular  person  left  her  place  among  the  women  who 
stood  nearest  the  house,  and,  approaching  a  window,  beckoned 
to  some  one  within. 

"Come,  Bessie,"  said  Tom. 

"  Wait  one  moment,  dear.  If  Leigh  does  not  come,  I  will 
go."     But  Leigh  came.     In  answer  to  the  summons  she  ap- 


196  ONE     SUMMER. 

peared  at  the  door.  Under  the  thick  hop-vines  that  climbed 
over  the  porch  she  stood  one  instant,  pale,  erect,  with  widely 
open  eyes.  She  did  not  need  the  gesture  from  Miss  Phipps 
that  indicated  where  she  should  look  for  her  sister.  She 
passed  the  waiting,  watching  neighbors  as  if  she  saw  them  not, 
and,  with  closely  set  lips  and  a  hard,  strained  look  in  her 
eyes,  went  rapidly  through  the  gate  and  down  the  road,  and 
flung  herself  into  her  sister's  arms  without  one  word  of  greet- 
ing. 

"  I  must  go  back  now/''  she  said. 

"  Ah,  dear,  not  so  soon,"  pleaded  Bessie ;  "  you  look  so 
ill."  She  dared  not  ask  how  Gem  was.  His  pitiful  moans 
reached  them  through  the  stillness.  Bessie  shuddered,  but 
Leigh's  face  looked  gray  and  hard  as  if  carven  out  of  granite. 

"  It  is  dreadful  to  hear  him,  is  it  not  ?  "  she  said  ;  "  but 
lie  does  not  know.  The  doctor  says  he  is  not  conscious  of  his 
suffering." 

"Is  there  no  hope?  "  asked  Tom. 

"  Very  little,"  said  Leigh,  in  a  dry,  mechanical  tone.  "  He 
has  been  this  way  for  days.  He  will  do  that  hours  longer; 
but  we  shall  know  before  morning." 

"  Ah  !  there  's  Ogden,"  exclaimed  Tom.  And  he  walked 
forward  to  grasp  cordially  Philip's  outstretched  hand.  Under 
these  strange  auspices,  Philip  met  his  old  friend  and  was  pre- 
sented to  Mrs.  Otis,  who,  even  in  the  painful  excitement  of  the 
moment,  found  herself  wondering  what  Leigh  saw  to  dislike 
in  him. 

"  I  must  go  back,"  exclaimed  Leigh,  impatiently,  "  I  cannot 
bear  it  out  here."     And  she  turned  towards  the  house.     "  O, 


ONE     SUMMER.  197 

if  these  people  would  only  go  away  !  How  can  they  be  so 
cruel  ?  How  can  they  stay  and  listen,  when  they  care  nothing 
for  my  poor  little  Gem  !  "  And  a  flush  of  indignation  passed 
over  her  pale  face. 

"  They  are  not  unkind/'  said  Philip,  pityingly.  "  It  seems 
strange  to  us ;  but  it  is  only  their  way.  I  think  they  are  all 
sorry  in  their  hearts,  Miss  Doane." 

"Are  they?"  said  Leigh,  drearily.  "I  did  not  know; 
but  I  wish  they  would  go  away  !  "  she  repeated.  Bessie  seized 
her  hand. 

"  Dear,  come  with  us.  You  can  do  no  good  there,  and  you 
are  worn  out,  and  it  is  so  hard  for  you." 

"  No,  Bessie,  I  cannot." 

"Let  me  drive  you  down  with  Bessie,"  begged  Tom,  affec- 
tionately, putting  his  hands  on  her  shoulders  and  drawing  her 
gently  towards  the  wagon.     "Please,  let  me,  Leigh." 

"  No,  Tom,"  said  Leigh,  with  the  same  immovable  face. 

"  Perhaps  I  shall  run  away  with  you  against  your  will," 
said  Tom,  trying  to  speak  lightly.  Leigh  stepped  to  Bessie's 
side. 

"  Dear,  I  cannot  talk  now ;  but  it  is  better  for  me  to  be 
with  Gem.  Tom,  you  do  not  know.  You  tell  them,"  she 
said,  turning  to  Philip;  "you  understand."  And,  putting 
her  arms  round  Bessie's  neck,  she  kissed  her  once,  and,  with- 
out another  word,  went  swiftly  back  to  the  house.  Tom  looked 
very  much  as  if  he  were  going  after  her.  In  answer  to  his 
glance,  Philip  said,  — 

"  Better  let  her  stay,  Otis.  She  's  about  worn  out,  but  one 
aieht  more  can't,  make  much  difference.     I  think  Miss  Doane 


I98  ONE     SUMMER. 

meant  that  she  found  it  harder  to  control  herself  away  from 
Gem  than  with  him,  even  if  she  can  do  nothing  for  him,  did 
she  not,  Mrs.  Otis?" 

"Yes,"  said  Bessie,  sadly.  "I  wanted  her  to  come  with 
me,  but  it  would  be  cruel  to  take  her  away,  and  you  '11  take 
care  of  her,  Mr.  Ogden,  will  you  not?  "  she  said,  holding  out 
her  hand  with  a  look  full  of  confidence.  "  It  is  not  like  leav- 
ing her  with  strangers  "  ;  and  she  made  a  faint  attempt  to 
smile.  "  If  you  were  not  here,  I  could  not  leave  her  to  go 
about  with  that  poor  pale  face,  and  those  great  wild  eyes." 
And  the  tears  rolled  down  Bessie's  cheeks.  "  I  would  n't  be 
of  the  least  use  if  I  should  stay,  would  I  ?  " 

"  I  think  not,  Mrs.  Otis.  No  one  can  do  anything  but 
wait  for  the  result.  It  must  come  soon.  You  may  be  sure  I 
will  not  be  neglectful  of  the  trust  you  give  me,"  he  added 
gratefully. 

"You,  of  use?  You  look  like  it,  you  fluttering,  tearful 
thing,"  said  Tom  to  his  wife,  with  mock  fierceness.  "  The 
question  is,  Ogden,  have  I,  or  have  I  not,  any  marital  author- 
ity? There  are  times  of  agony  and  despair,  when  tongue 
cannot  express  my  sufferings,  and  I  am  forced  to  respond,  No, 
I  have  none  whatever ;  but  occasionally  comes  a  moment  like 
this,"  —  and  without  more  ado  he  coolly  lifted  his  wife  into 
the  wagon,  —  "  which  gives  me  strength  and  courage  for  the 
future.'''' 

Bessie  smiled,  but  said,  "  O  Tom  !  "  reprovingly. 

"  I  'm  sorry  for  the  boy  in  there,"  said  he,  "  but  I  think  so 
much  hearse  and  funeral  trappings  entirely  premature.  I  've 
heard  of  a  woman  who  lived  in  a  shroud,  night  and  day,  for 


ONE     SUMMER.  199 

twenty  year?.     When  one  would  wear  out  she  'd  have  another, 

—  the  way  my  wife  does  with  what  she  calls  her  spring-suits, 

—  but  I'm  inclined  to  regard  things  more  cheerfully,  and  I 
think  that  child  will  see  daylight  yet." 

"  I  think  so,  Tom,"  said  Philip.  "  He  's  had  a  tough  time 
of  it,  but  I  have  not  been  able  to  believe  that  this  is  the  end 
of  the  bright  little  fellow." 

"  Ogden,  let  me  know  if  I  can  be  of  any  use.  I  leave  that 
wilful  girl  in  your  hands.  Bring  her  down  to  us  if  she  faints. 
I  hope  everything  will  come  out  all  right." 

"  I  hope  and  believe  it  will.  This  is  Miss  Doane's  '  happy 
Wednesday.'  She  was  anticipating  it  with  the  utmost  eager- 
ness and  delight,"  said  Philip,  gravely.  "  However  it  may 
end,  I  shall  bring  her  into  the  village  early  to-morrow  morn- 
ing." 

With  an  exchange  of  glances  that  said  far  more  than  their 
words,  the  two  men  shook  hands  warmly,  and  Tom  drove  off. 
Exhausted  by  the  emotions  she  had  experienced  after  the  fatigue 
of  the  day,  and  seeming  still  to  hear  the  moans  of  the  child, 
Bessie  silently  leaned  close  to  her  husband. 

"Poor  little  girl!"  he  said,  the  jesting  tone  quite  gone 
from  his  voice. 

"  Is  n't  it  dreadful  ?  "  said  Bessie,  after  some  moments. 
"  And  we  expected  so  much  !  And  our  poor  Leigh  looking 
like  a  ghost,  and  everything  so  miserable  !  How  hard  it  is  to 
be  happy  in  this  world  !  " 

"  What  a  Lady  Macbeth  she  'd  make  !  "  said  Tom,  deliber- 
ately ignoring  her  despondent  tone.  "  She  had  the  horror  in 
her  eyes  to  perfection.  If  she  had  only  rubbed  her  hands 
together.     That  was  all  that  was  wanting." 


200  ONE     SUMMER. 

"  Do  you  suppose  it  will  ever  be  pleasant  here  ?  It  seems 
to  me  I  shall  hear  that  child  all  my  life." 

"  My  dear,  it  is  not  an  hilarious  beginning,  I  admit,  but 
I  '11  prophesy  that  Ogden  will  bring  Leigh  down,  with  good 
tidings,  in  the  morning.  The  boy  will  get  better ;  and  if  all 
Leigh  says  of  him  is  true,  you  '11  hear  his  voice  in  sounds  a 
vast  deal  jollier  than  groans." 

"  But,  clear,  it  is  impossible  to  know  surely." 

" '  We  can't  'most  always  sometimes  tell '  much  of  anything 
in  this  world,  but  we  won't  bear  any  unnecessary  burdens. 
I  have  a  presentiment  the  little  chap  is  going  to  get  well," 
said  he,  stoutly.  And  Bessie  was  comforted  by  his  cheery 
tones,  as  he  meant  she  should  be,  in  spite  of  herself. 

When  they  arrived  at  the  house  he  took  her  in  his  strong 
arms,  and,  carrying  her  up  stairs  like  a  child,  deposited  her  in 
the  big  chair. 

Bessie  smiled  at  him. 

"Tom,  you  are  a  good  boy,  if  you  are  silly  sometimes." 

"  You  natter  me,  upon  my  honor,  you  do,  really." 

"  Tom,  I  want  to  tell  you  something." 

"  My  ears  are  open,"  she  said,  as  she  hesitated. 

"  Leigh  and  Mr.  Ogden,"  she  began,  "  are  —  that  is,  they 
will  be  —  I  mean  —  I  think  so.  Of  course,  one  can't  know 
certainly  about  such  things,  but  still,  Tom,  I  feel  perfectly 
sure  —  yes,  perfectly." 

"  I  never  was  accused  of  being  hypercritical,  but  I  think  I 
may  say  that  I  have,  in  the  course  of  my  life,  listened  to  a 
more  fluent  and  lucid  announcement  of  a  person's  views,"  said 
Tom,  gravely.     "  My  dear,  I  would  not  presume  to  dictate, 


ONE     SUMMER.  20 1 

but  would  humbly  suggest  —  as  the  old  deacon  said  in  his 
prayer  —  that  you  try  that  again." 

"  Why,  do  you  not  understand,  dear  ?  It 's  quite  clear. 
Did  you  not  notice  her  when  she  turned  to  him  as  she  went 
away,  and  said,  'Ton  understand''  ?  " 

"  What  if  she  did  ?  "  Tom  said  bluntly.  "  That 's  nothing. 
He  's  been  in  the  house  with  her  three  weeks.  Of  course  he 
understands.  Do  you  imagine  it  takes  a  man  of  Ogden's 
sense  as  long  as  that  to  see  through  a  woman's  whims  ?  " 

"  But,  dear,  she  felt  that  he  would  understand  her  better 
than  you  or  I.  Better  than  I,  her  own  sister.  Is  that  nothing? 
And  did  you  not  see  the  look  in  his  eyes  when  he  watched  her 
as  she  went  back  to  the  house  ?  " 

"  I  hope  I  have  something  better  to  do  in  this  world  than 
watching  men's  eyes,  and  ferreting  out  incipient  love-affairs," 
laughed  Tom. 

"  This  is  not  an  incipient  love-affair,  by  any  means/'  said 
Bessie,  wisely. 

"  And  you  had  time  to  discover  all  this  in  those  few  mo- 
ments? And  that  was  why  you  smiled  your  prettiest,  and 
made  up  to  Ogden  so  tremendously,  the  minute  you  put  your 
eyes  on  him  ?     O,  these  women  !  "     And  Tom  whistled. 

"  Dear,  you  exaggerate.  I  could  n't  have  smiled  much. 
I  was  feeling  too  badly.  And  George  Eliot  makes  some- 
body say,  '  She  's  not  denyin'  that  women  are  foolish.  God 
A'mighty  made  'em  to  match  the  men,'  "  rejoined  Bessie, 
triumphantly. 

"  And  what  does  '  to  match  the  men '  mean  ?  To  be  what 
we  are  not?  A  complement?  It  strikes  me  that  is  the  rea- 
sonable interpretation,"  chuckled  Tom. 


202  ONE     SUMMER. 

"  Don't  joke,  Tom/'  said  Bessie,  solemnly. 

"  That 's  good.  Pardon  me  for  recriminating ;  but  if  I 
mistake  not  you  began  it  this  time." 

"  Never  mind  if  I  did,  dear.  How  do  you  suppose  little 
Gem  is  now?  " 

"Improving  —  improving  rapidly,"  said  Tom,  with  de- 
cision. 

"Tom,"  said  Bessie,  after  a  moment's  thought,  "you  may 
not  think  I  know  much,  but  there  are  some  things  which 
women  always  see  quicker  than  men.  You  need  not  deny 
it,  for  men  themselves  admit  it,  and  I  know  —  I  know,"  she 
repeated  emphatically,  "  that  Mr.  Ogden  is  very  much  inter- 
ested in  Leigh." 

"Can't  a  man  look  after  a  pretty  girl  as  she  walks  off, 
without  being  spoony  ?  " 

"  No ;  at  least,  not  as  Mr.  Ogden  looked ;  and  f  spoony  ' 
is  not  a  pretty  word,  my  dear." 

Tom  took  a  plaster-of-paris  image  of  "Praying  Samuel" 
from  the  mantel,  and  eyed  it  reflectively. 

"It  is  then  your  firm  conviction,  you  small  and  sapient 
woman,  that  Ogden  and  Leigh  will  eventually  — " 

"  Yes,  dear,  if  you  don't  interfere." 

"I?     Why  should  I?" 

"  I  do  not  mean  that  you  would  interpose  any  real  objec- 
tions and  obstacles,"  said  Bessie,  with  a  smile;  "but  you 
must  not  tease  Leigh." 

"  0,  I  must  not,  must  I?  "  said  Tom,  wickedly. 

"Not  for  a  moment,"  replied  Bessie,  with  great  earnest- 
ness.    "  You  see  this  is  an  extremely  precarious  affair.     They 


ONE     SUMMER.  203 

have  been  quarrelling  all  the  time.  When  two  persons  in 
their  frame  of  mind  quarrel  and  then  l  make  up/  as  the  chil- 
dren call  it,  it  is  lovely,  perfectly  lovely ;  but  you  must  not 
say  a  word  to  Leigh.  I  wish  we  had  quarrelled,"  she  said, 
a  little  enviously.  "It  makes  a  courtship  very  much  more 
brilliant." 

Tom  looked  immensely  amused. 

"  Nobody  shall  say  I  have  not  a  chivalrous  and  lover-like 
soul.  I  '11  quarrel  with  you  to  an  unlimited  extent.  I  '11 
show  you  heights  of  fine  fighting  such  as  you  never  dreamed 
of.     Just  say  the  word!     When  shall  we  begin?" 

"  0,  it 's  not  the  same  thing !  It 's  not  half  so  nice  to 
quarrel  now,"  she  said,  regretfully.  "Torn,  dear,  the  very 
nicest  thing  noio  is  for  you  always  to  do  exactly  what  I  say. 
You  promise  to  say  nothing  to  Leigh  ? " 

"  I  am  to  understand,  then,  that  my  lady  approves  of  the 
match?" 

"  Yes  —  I  think  —  I  —  do,"  said  Bessie,  slowly.  "  I  like 
him.  I  liked  him  at  once;  his  voice  and  his  face  and  his 
manner.  And  you  like  him  so  much,  Tom,  of  course  that 
influences  me,"  she  went  on  demurely.  "  You  have  told  me 
so  much  about  him,  and  you  know  you  have  most  excellent 
judgment.     Please  promise,  Tom,"  she  said  coaxingly. 

"A  man,"  began  Tom  in  a  tragic  manner,  "who  can  resist 
this  amount  of  wheedling  is  a  cynic ;  nay,  a  misogynist,  whom 
't  were  base  flattery  to  call  a  villain."  And,  striking  an  atti- 
tude, he  looked  up  to  imaginary  galleries  for  applause.  "  I 
promise  not  to  molest  the  two  innocents.  I  swear  it,"  he 
exclaimed  in  a  sepulchral  and  stagy  tone  suggestive  of  slow 


204  ONE     SUMMER. 

music,  blue  fire,  and  fiends.  "  Now  are  you  satisfied  ?  The 
sooner  that  tired  head  of  yours  is  on  its  pillow  the  better.  I 
am  going  down  to  the  door  for  a  smoke."  Shortly  after  he 
called  from  the  porch,  "Bessie  !  " 

"  Hush,  dear,"  she  said,  coming  to  the  stairway.  "  Speak 
low,  or  you  '11  wake  baby.     What  is  it  ?  " 

"  Leigh's  heaped-up  vituperation  of  Ogden  was  all  a  hoax, 
feminine  duplicity,  was  it?  " 

"Not  at  all!"  was  the  indignant  response.  "She  was 
perfectly  sincere.     Can't  a  girl  change  her  mind  ?  " 

"I  have  heard  it  faintly  intimated  that  she  can,"  said  Tom, 
dryly. 

"Leigh  disliked  him  extremely  in  the  first  place." 

"Whew!"  said  Tom.  "When  do  you  suppose  the  won- 
drous change  began?" 

"  How  do  I  know  ?  Why  do  you  wish  to  work  it  out  like 
a  problem  in  geometry  ?  Men  never  do  appreciate  these  fine 
points." 

"  I  presume  not ;  still,  my  dear,  I  think  it  is  but  fair  to 
state,  that  while  your  assumption,  with  regard  to  our  young 
friend,  may  or  may  not  be  verified  in  the  future,  as  yet  I  have 
seen  no  evidence  that  corroborates  your  views ;  which  are,  to 
my  mind,  hasty,  ill-formed,  unfounded,  and,  need  I  add,  es- 
sentially feminine." 

"  Tom,  if  you  say  another  word  in  that  heavy  judicial  style, 
I  shall  fall  asleep  here,  standing  on  my  feet.  What  you  think 
or  do  not  think  upon  this  subject  does  not  signify  in  the  least. 
I  do  not  think,  I  know.  All  you  are  to  do  is  to  behave,  and 
await  the  result." 


ONE     SUMMER. 


205 


"Which  I'm  perfectly  willing  to  do.     It's  Ogden's  fu- 
neral, not  mine,  and  either  of  them  could  do  worse." 


"  And  you  '11  be  very  good,  and  not  trouble  Leigh  ?  " 
"  Have  I  not  promised,  importunate  being?  " 


206  ONE     SUMMER. 

"Yes,  Tom,  you  did/'  said  Bessie,  contritely.  "I  know 
you  '11  be  good.     Good  night,  dear." 

Tom  sat  and  smoked  until  lie  heard  Miss  Phipps  coming  in 
the  side  entrance.  He  went  out  to  meet  her,  and  to  ask  how 
Gem  was.  As  yet  there  was  no  change.  He  returned  to  the 
porch  and  his  cigars.  "The  little  fellow  will  pull  through," 
he  thought  cheerily.  "  And  we  actually  have  stumbled  upon 
a  romance  so  soon,  if  my  little  wife  is  right,  and  I  rather 
think  she  is.     O,  these  women !  these  women !  " 


CHAPTER  XV. 

"  Pleasantly  murmured  the  brook  as  they  crossed  the  ford  in  the  forest, 
Pleased  with  the  image  that  passed  like  a  dream  of  love  through  its  bosom. 
Tremulous,  floating  in  air,  o'er  the  depths  of  the  azure  abysses. 
Down  through  the  golden  leaves,  the  sun  was  pouring  his  splendors." 

Longfellow. 

"  To  hate  the  Devil  and  all  his  works  is  one  thing.     To  say  who  is  the  Devil 
aud  what  are  his  works  is  another."  —  Miss  Thackeray. 

i&|||g|S^UT  you  do  not  faint,  Miss  Doane,  nor  cry,  nor 
.• j  -■■r^lk  even  look  pale,  nor  fulfil  in  the  slightest  degree 
VA-v--c;y^  mv  preconceived  theories  with  regard  to  the  way 
s^rS^&fb  'm  w]uch  young  ladies  conduct  themselves  after 
an  excess  of  emotion." 

"I  should  be  sorry  to  seem  impertinent,  but  do  you  write 
for  the  magazines,  Mr.  Ogden  ?  Except  in  recent  essays  upon 
young  women,  I  never  met  with  such  extraordinary  ideas  as 
you  advance.  I  wonder  if  you  can  be  in  earnest.  What  do 
you  think  of  us,  anyway  ?  "  And  she  turned  her  frank,  sunny 
face  directly  towards  him.  Her  eyes  looked  unnaturally  large 
and  bright,  and  her  cheeks  were  flushed  crimson. 

Philip  glanced  at  her  as  she  sat  beside  him  in  the  rumbling 
old  wagon.     What  he  thought  of  young  ladies  as  a  class  was 


208  ONE     SUMMER. 

one  thing.  What  he  thought  of  her  individually  was  another, 
and  the  hour  for  telling  her  was  not  yet  come. 

"  I  did  not  know  that  young  ladies  could  work  as  hard  as 
you  have  worked  for  three  weeks,  crown  it  all  by  a  night  of 
extreme  anxiety  without  one  moment's  sleep,  and  then  look 
brilliantly  happy  at  'live  o'clock  in  the  morning.'" 

"But  everything  looks  happy  and  fresh  and  lovely.  I 
never  was  so  blessed  in  my  life.  Was  n't  that  the  sweet- 
est smile  you  ever  saw  that  he  gave  me?  Was  n't  it?  "  she 
repeated  eagerly. 

Thus  urged,  Philip  deceitfully  assented,  making,  however,  a 
mental  reservation  in  favor  of  the  smile  which  was  then  de- 
lighting his  eyes. 

"  And  then  he  went  off  into  that  lovely,  quiet  sleep  !  Do 
hear  those  birds !  How  glad  they  sound  !  This  air  is  simply 
intoxicating  !  0  Mr.  Ogden,  what  if  he  should  want  me 
when  he  wakes  !  " 

"  He  is  too  weak  to  want  much  of  anything  to-day  ;  but  if 
he  should  want  you  by  and  by,  you  must  let  him  want,  Miss 
Doane.  The  danger  is  over,  and  Jane  does  wonders  now, 
thanks  to  you,  and  I  shall  be  there.  I  do  not  think  he  will 
miss  you  just  yet." 

"  But  he  knew  me.  He  looked  directly  at  me.  Why,  you 
saw  him!  He  smiled,  you  know/'  she  said  with  feverish 
haste. 

"  Indeed  he  did.  He  smiled  directly  at  you,  and  at  no  one 
else,  and  you  deserved  that  mark  of  favor.  How  changed  the 
boy  is  !  He  looks  older,  altogether  different  from  the  Jim  I 
found  when  I  came  here." 


ONE     SUMMER.  209 

"  Gem  was  changed  in  many  respects  before  his  illness,  from 
the  mocking  little  mischievous  elf  who  perched  upon  Miss 
Phipps's  fence  in  the  twilight  the  first  time  I  ever  saw  him, 
and  seemed  like  a  bird  of  ill-omen  because  I  felt  so  desolate. 
And  then  he  went  flying  and  shrieking  through  the  gloom  in 
the  most  astonishing  manner.  It  was  the  same  evening,"  she 
began  thoughtlessly,  and  then  stopped. 

"  Gem  was  improving  wonderfully,"  said  Philip,  coming 
quietly  to  her  relief.     "How  did  you  manage  it?" 

"0,  I  did  very  little,  I  assure  you!  It  was  all  his  own, 
dear,  little  bright  self.  I  have  not  a  bit  of  a  mission  or  a  call 
or  a  sphere  or  anything  of  the  sort.  Gem  has  taught  me  more 
than  I  have  him,  and  has  been  of  the  greatest  service  to  me  in 
a  thousand  ways.     I  think  you  did  him  good,  Mr.  Ogden." 

"1?"  said  Philip,  in  real  surprise.  "  Not  a  bit  of  it ! 
I  'm  the  last  man  in  existence  to  go  about  reforming  his  fel- 
low-creatures," he  went  on  with  some  bitterness.  "  Miss 
Doane,  I  lead  the  most  selfish,  aimless  life  in  existence.  No 
man  ever  was  of  less  use." 

"  Delightful !  "  exclaimed  Leigh ;  "  I  always  encourage  sen- 
timents of  that  kind.  It  is  so  seldom  one  sees  a  man  show 
the  least  humility,  and  when  he  does,  it  is  over  so  soon,  and 
he  immediately  forgets  that  he  ever  knew  the  meaning  of  the 
word.  But,  Mr.  Ogden,  you  do  preach,  you  know,  some- 
times," she  said,  laughing.  "  Gem  told  me  about  the  snail- 
sermon." 

"  And  Gem  told  me  about  your  anaconda  lecture,"  Philip 
returned  coolly. 

"  I  hoped  that  he  would  tell,  since  I  had  the  pleasure  of 


210  ONE     SUMMER. 

listening  to  a  synopsis  of  your  eloquent  dissertation  upon  the 
"  chameleon,'  "  said  Leigh,  unabashed ;  but  she  changed  the 
subject.     "  Did  you  lose  all  hope  yesterday  ?  " 

"  No,  I  think  not.  I  was  extremely  anxious,  but  I  did  not 
quite  give  him  up.     Did  you  ?  " 

"  Not  until  those  people  came  and  listened,  and  then  I  really 
think  I  despaired  of  everything.  They  seemed  so  hideous  and 
cruel  and  ghoulish.  They  made  me  frantic.  I  fairly  hated 
them." 

"  I  do  not  doubt  it.     You  looked  as  if  you  did." 

"  How  very  difficult  it  is  to  be  charitable  to  people  whose 
ways  one  does  not  understand ! "  Leigh  said,  thoughtfully. 

"  Perhaps  that  is  why  I  do  fashionable  girls  such  injustice/'' 
Philip  said  lvith  a  smile. 

Leigh  turned  towards  him  quickly.  "  Mr.  Ogden,  I  'm  the 
happiest  girl  in  the  world  this  morning,  and  I  think  I  'm  tol- 
erably amiable,  but  I  shall  grow  savage  in  two  minutes,  if  you 
begin  to  talk  about  '  fashionable  girls,'  like  the  magazines  and 
newspapers." 

11  But  I  cannot,  even  for  the  pleasant  little  excitement  of 
seeing  you  grow  savage.  My  conversation  is  not  up  to  the 
required  standard  of  magazine  articles  or  even  newspapers,  I  'm 
afraid.     But  what  is  it  that  rouses  your  indignation  ?  " 

"  I  'm  tired  of  reading  and  hearing  about  fashionable  girls. 
What  is  a  l  fashionable  girl '  ?  Do  you  know  ?  Does  any- 
body know  ?  "  Leigh  went  on  impetuously.  "  People  use  the 
phrase  as  if  it  invariably  meant  shallow,  empty-headed,  and 
vain.  I  never  could  see  that  there  was  anything  Christian  in 
making  one's  self  look  dowdy.    May  not  an  unfashionable  girl 


ONE     SUMMER.  211 

be  silly  ?  Do  we  monopolize  all  the  faults  of  the  sex  ?  I  sup- 
pose I  'm  a  fashionable  girl  myself,"  she  laughingly  admitted, 
"  so  I  speak  with  feeling.     But  why  do  people  talk  so  ?  " 

"  Perhaps  because  they  have  some  reason.  Perhaps  because 
it  is  easier  to  write  a  clever  and  witty  paper,  when  one  says  ill- 
natured  tilings.  But,  Miss  Doane,  do  you  believe  that  many 
of  your  young  lady  friends  would  have  done  what  you  have 
done  down  here  in  Edgecomb  this  summer?  You  have  a 
decided  advantage  in  the  argument,  if  I  wished  to  take  the 
opposite  side.  When  a  man  knows  that  a  young  lady  can 
walk  her  five  miles  easily,  in  all  sorts  of  weather,  with  no  ap- 
parent ill  effect,  he  rapidly  loses  any  foolish  ideas  he  may  have 
formed  as  to  the  universal  delicacy  of  the  sex ;  and  his  past 
theories  with  regard  to  the  inefficient,  superficial  ways  of  the 
modern  '  girl '  must  vanish  when  he  sees  a  j)erson  so  busy  and 
helpful  and  practical  as  you  have  been.  Are  you  sure  you  are 
not  the  Frau  Bertha,  the  '  gentle  white  lady  who  steals  softly 
to  neglected  cradles,  and  rocks  them'?  My  only  refuge,  you 
see,  is  to  pronounce  you  an  honorable  exception.  The  froth 
exists,  but  you  are  not  as  fond  of  it  as  most  girls." 

"  I  am  very  sure  I  am  not  the  Frau  Bertha,  for,  according 
to  the  legend,  she  had  an  immensely  large  foot  and  a  long  iron 
nose,"  said  Leigh,  roguishly ;  "  and  I  do  like  froth.  And, 
Mr.  Ogden,"  she  went  on  with  a  vivid  blush,  "  my  friends 
would  have  done  fewer  foolish  things  than  I,  and  the  few 
things  I  may  have  done  which  are  not  foolish  they  would  have 
done  better." 

"  You  do  not  seem  fashionable  at  all,  now,"  Philip  said 
soberly. 


212  ONE     SUMMER. 

"  I  do  not  take  that  as  a  compliment/'  laughed  Leigh.  "  I 
am  considered  quite  a  fashionable  person  at  home,  I  assure 
you.  0  Mr.  Ogden/'  she  went  on  earnestly,  "there  is  a  great 
deal  of  injustice  in  it,  really.  People,  sensible  people  too,  do 
get  so  narrow  in  their  way  of  looking  at  us.  At  a  party,  for 
instance,  we  are  not  expected  to  mention  whether  we  made  our 
dresses  or  not,  or  what  good  deeds  we  have  performed  during 
the  day,  nor  to  enumerate  our  several  useful  accomplishments, 
like  the  chorus  of  servants  at  the  Richmond  Fair  in  '  Martha/ 
We  do  not  have  the  appearance  of  toiling  and  spinning,  I 
admit,  but  that  adds  to  the  general  effect.  We  look  as  finely 
as  possible,  —  I  always  do,  I  assure  you,  —  but,  after  all,  we 
are  not  as  we  figure  in  the  essays." 

"  You  are  eloquent,  Miss  Doane." 

"  No,  I  am  not  eloquent.  But  I  never  in  any  city  met  with 
the  girls  I  find  in  the  magazines  and  in  some  books.  Some- 
times, of  course,  I  meet  a  young  lady  who  seems  stupid  and 
shallow,  but  I  cannot  see  that  she  is  to  blame  if  the  Lord  en- 
dowed her  with  less  than  the  usual  amount  of  common-sense. 
If  she  were  a  chambermaid,  it  would  be  the  same.  The  fault 
lies  deeper  than  in  wearing  pretty  dresses.  Mrs.  Browning 
speaks  of  '  Vacuity  trimmed  with  lace ' ;  but  vacuity  is  vacuity, 
whether  trimmed  with  lace  or  not.  If  a  girl  lias  little  that  is 
admirable  or  lovable  in  her  nature,  it  would  n't  remedy  the 
difficulty  if  she  should  wear  cloth  of  frieze  instead  of  cloth  of 
gold.  Now  our  set  of  girls  at  home,  —  would  you  really  like 
to  have  me  tell  you  ?  "  she  asked,  with  a  pretty  hesitation. 

"  Indeed  I  would,"  Philip  said  heartily.  "  No  young  lady 
ever  talked  to  me  as  you  are  talking.  It  is  a  very  great 
pleasure  to  hear  you." 


ONE     SUMMER.  213 

Leigh  went  on  rapidly.  "  We  are  not  very  profound,  of 
course ;  we  are  not  particularly  interested  in  protoplasm ;  and 
when  we  come  to  Herbert  Spencer  in  our  reading,  we  skip  him, 
because  Ave  think  him  appalling,  but  we  study  more  or  less  all 
of  the  time,  and  c  do '  a  little  French  and  German  quite  con- 
stantly, and  we  have  our  music,  —  most  of  us  do,  —  and  we 
read  enough  to  have  a  faint  idea  of  what  is  going  on  in  the 
world.  Then,  there  are  very  few  girls  who  have  no  home 
duties.  Some  of  my  friends  always  make  their  own  dresses ; 
I  never  do,  I  do  not  like  to  sew/'  And  she  looked  at  Philip 
as  if  she  expected  to  hear  an  exclamation  of  horror.  "  Are 
you  shocked  ?  " 

"  Not  in  the  least.  Your  confession  is  quite  a  relief  to  me. 
I  always  wondered  how  women  could  possibly  endure  so  much 
monotonous  stitching.     And  what  else  do  you  do  ?  " 

"  O,  little  things ;  yet  each  day  seems  full.  We  are  always 
busy.  I  do  not  think  we  ever  feel  that  we  are  frittering  away 
our  time,  or  that  we  are  useless  dolls,  as  we  are  popularly 
supposed  to  be.  If  we  all  went  as  missionaries  to  the  Fiji 
Islands,  it  would  be  more  to  tell  of ;  but  there  are  two  sides 
to  every  question,  and  Bessie  would  think  I  was  a  heathen  if  I 
should  leave  her.  I  really  do  not  know  the  '  fashionable-girl ' 
type  at  all,  Mr.  Ogden,  except  in  isolated  cases/'  she  said 
quite  earnestly  ;  "  but  I  know  very  many  sweet,  bright  girls, 
who  do  not  pretend  to  be  wise  or  remarkable  in  any  way,  but 
who  do  not  dye  their  hair,  nor  lace,  nor  pinch  their  feet,  nor 
paint,  and  who  are  just  as  true-hearted  and  womanly  as  if  they 
did  not  dance  the  German,  and  did  not  like  to  go  to  the  opera, 
and  had  not  wealthy  papas.     Then  we  —  we  fashionable  but- 


214  ONE     SUMMER. 

terflies,  I  mean  —  are  not  so  feeble  as  we  are  represented. 
Do  not  girls  row  and  walk  miles  and  miles,  and  get  brown  and 
hardy  and  healthy  at  hundreds  of  places  on  the  coast  every 
summer?  Where  are  people's  eyes?  Mr.  Ogden,  it  is  im- 
possible to  tell  anything  about  us,"  she  added,  smiling  brightly 
at  him.  "  A  plain  woman  is  often  vainer  than  a  pretty  one ; 
and  the  girl  who  has  the  most  languid  and  fashionable  effect 
in  a  whole  roomful  of  girls  may  have  sewed  every  stitch  in  her 
elaborately  made  gown,  and  be  a  very  efficient  housekeeper, 
with  a  special  talent  for  cooking.  And  the  girl  with  the  ugly 
dress  is  not  necessarily  the  sweetest  tempered.  We  are  very 
uncertain,  but  it  is  not  fair  to  condemn  us  unheard.  There 
are  really  remote  possibilities  of  good  in  us  all/'  she  said  with 
comical  gravity,  "  if  we  do  not  like  the  idea  of  wearing  a  uni- 
form of  gray  flannel,  a  strait  jacket,  and  a  short  plain  skirt/' 
she  rather  scornfully  explained  to  Philip,  "  such  as  is  urged 
strongly  upon  us  by  the  reformers,  you  know.  I  cannot  feel 
that  I  would  be  a  better  woman  if  I  should  wear  that  costume, 
or  anything  else  ugly  and  unbecoming,  —  green,  for  instance, 
which  makes  me  look  like  a  fright." 

"  How  intrepid  you  are,  Miss  Doane  !  This  is  a  new  de- 
velopment. I  imagined  that  ladies  never  would  admit  that 
they  were  fond  of  dress." 

"  I  like  it  hugely,"  Leigh  said  with  emphasis.  "  I  care  for 
a  beautiful  color  and  a  graceful  outline  in  dress  as  in  any- 
thing else,  and  I  like  everything  that  is  pretty  and  fresh  and 
dainty.    How  can  I  help  it  ?     It  is  as  instinctive 

'  As  for  grass  to  be  green  or  skies  to  be  blue : 
T  is  the  natural  wav  of  living.' 


ONE     SUMMER.  21$ 

But  I  may  not  always.  When  I  am  forty-five,  and  have  lost 
my  friends  and  health  and  enthusiasm,  and  the  world  looks 
different,  I  may  grow  wise,  —  or  morbid,  I  don't  know  which, 
—  and  take  to  writing  essays,  and  denouncing  pretty  things, 
and  advocating  dull  drab  for  universal  wear,  with  never  a 
gleam  of  rose-color.  I  may  even  think  it  a  crime  to  wear  a 
locket,  and  a  sleeve  slightly  open  at  the  wrist  an  evidence  of 
total  depravity." 

"  You  will  never  regard  lockets  and  open  sleeves  in  that  light 
probably,  Miss  Doane,  until  you  have  an  ugly  arm  and  no 
locket." 

"  You  are  laughing  at  me.  Perhaps  I  seem  absurd  to 
talk  so." 

"Certainly  you  do  not.  You  are  quite  right,  I  think. 
And,  right  or  wrong,  you  ought  to  have  the  privilege  of 
expressing  the  feelings  of  your  order.''' 

"  And  that  is  the  trouble,"  said  Leigh,  quickly.  "  Our 
order,  as  you  call  it,  never  does  express  itself.  It  is  the  tar- 
get at  which  everybody  shoots.  When  anything  new  and 
especially  savage  appears,  we  girls  at  home  hold  indignation 
meetings.  We  have  sometimes  been  strongly  tempted  to  issue 
a  c  Eound  Robin/  Is  not  that  what  it  is  called  when  igno- 
rant people  feel  that  they  must  protest  against  injustice,  and 
are  not  wise  enough  to  do  it  in  any  magnificent  and  striking 
way  ?  "  she  asked  laughingly.  "  I  really  do  not  think  that  we 
are  unreasonable.  We  read  with  respect  and  interest  what- 
ever physicians  choose  to  write  about  us.  They  speak  what 
they  do  know  and  testify  what  they  have  seen,  and  for  our 
good.     But  why  should  we  be  publicly  denounced  by  our  own 


216  ONE     SUMMER. 

sex  ?  Why  should  the  purity  of  our  motives  be  assailed,  aud 
ideas  of  which  we  never  dreamed  imputed  to  us  on  account  of 
a  ruffle,  more  or  less,  which  to  us  seems  a  non-essential? 
We  fashionable  girls  think  that  it  is  not  kind  or  womanly  to 
bring  railing  accusations  against  all  persons  who  do  not  choose 
to  wear  scant  skirts,  and  whose  opinions  happen  to  differ  from 
our  own,  because  we  believe  it  is  very  difficult  to  understand 
one  another  in  this  world,  where  natures  vary  so  much,  and 
lives,  and  modes  of  early  training.  We  would  rather  keep 
our  hearts  warm  and  charitable  than  to  be  able  to  write  the 
most  trenchant  anathemas  against  other  women.  But  in  all 
human  probability  we  shall  continue  to  be  abused,  and  also  to 
wear  our  pretty,  fluttering,  frivolous  ribbons  to  the  end  of 
time.  And  did  you  ever,  ever  in  all  your  life,  listen  to  a  lec- 
ture so  early  in  the  morning  ?  See  that  dear  little  squirrel ! 
Is  n't  that  bird-note  almost  too  lovely  ?  That  one  that  sounds 
so  clearly  above  the  rest,  I  mean.  0  Mr.  Ogden,  would  you 
be  so  kind  as  to  get  me  a  few  of  those  ferns  ?  They  look  so 
cool  and  fresh,  and  Bessie  would  like  to  see  them  at  breakfast. 
What  a  lovely,  lovely  world  it  is,  now  that  my  Gem  is  bet- 
ter ! " 

As  he  stood  on  the  edge  of  the  wood,  carefully  selecting  the 
prettiest  ferns,  she  said,  — 

"  You  must  not  notice  how  many  foolish  things  I  say  this 
morning,  Mr.  Ogden.  I  am  not  quite  responsible,  you  know. 
I  imagine  I  am  in  a  wild  state  of  delirium,  and  it  is  of  small 
consequence  to  me  what  I  say,  provided  I  can  talk.  Fortu- 
nately for  you,  I  shall  soon  have  my  family  to  afflict." 

Philip  did  not  tell  her  that  if  only  he  might  listen  to  the 


ONE     SUMMER.  2\J 

varying  tones  of  her  voice  it  was  of  small  consequence  to  him 
also  what  she  said,  nor  that  he  insanely  wished  that  there  were 
no  family  waiting  to  receive  her,  but  that  they  might  go  on  as 
they  were  forever,  riding  slowly  through  the  woods,  with  the 
freshness  of  the  early  morning  cooling  their  faces,  the  rosy 
clouds  and  golden  light  of  the  sunrise  before  them,  ,the  joyous 
birds  singing  in  the  branches  over  their  heads,  and  the  sweel 
woody  scents  all  around.  Nor  did  he  express  any  of  the  other 
equally  extravagant  fancies  that  filled  his  brain.  It  was  not 
yet  time,  not  yet,  he  constantly  told  himself,  to  risk  the  one 
thing  in  the  world  most  precious  in  his  sight. 

With  the  quiet  manner  she  knew  so  well,  he  said,  passing 
her  a  great  bunch  of  feathery  ferns,  and  getting  in  the 
wagon,  — 

"  If  I  can  only  succeed  in  taking  you  safely  to  your  sister, 
I  shall  congratulate  myself.  You  have  such  a  dazzling,  un- 
earthly effect  this  morning,  I  have  trembled  all  the  way  along 
lest  you  should  vanish  like  a  dryad  into  the  heart  of  an  oak  ; 
and  behind  there,  as  we  passed  the  spring,  I  held  my  breath, 
fearing  that  you  would  disappear,  nixy-like,  and  leave  me  all 
alone,  gazing  sadly  at  a  bubble.  I  am  sorry  to  croak,  but  you 
show  your  fatigue  in  a  queer  way,  and  I  fear  you  will  feel  it 
more,  later.  If  you  escape  without  an  illness,  I  shall  be  sur- 
prised, and  very  happy,"  he  added,  involuntarily.  A  pretty 
pleased  light  shone  in  Leigh's  eyes,  but  she  said  quite  care- 
lessly, — 

"  O,  I  'm  too  contrary  to  be  ill,  because  you  and  Tom  expect 
it,  I  am  excited,  I  know,  and  I  cannot  keep  still.  I  am  rest- 
less away  from  Gem.    I  am  sure  I  should  be  better  with  him." 

Philip  shook  his  head  doubtingly. 


2l8  ONE     SUMMER. 

"  But  as  he  really  does  not  need  me,  of  course  I  shall  go  to 
Bessie  for  to-day." 

"And  go  to  sleep  too,  I  hope." 

"  Indeed,  no.  I  shall  drink  ever  so  many  cups  of  coffee,  in 
the  first  place.  It  is  so  fortunate  you  will  not  see  me.  You 
would  be  horrified." 

"  But  I  shall  certainly  stay  to  breakfast,"  Philip  calmly 
announced,  "  if  Mrs.  Otis  honors  me  with  an  invitation." 

"  Very  well ;  at  your  peril,  then.  I  've  given  you  fair  warn- 
ing. And,  after  the  coffee,  we  shall  go  up  to  my  sister's  room, 
and  Bessie  and  I  will  talk  all  day  long,  and  discuss  the  details 
of  the  six  weeks  we  have  spent  without  each  other,  and  Tom 
will  be  ridiculous,  and  I,  to  be  honest,  will  be  superhumanly 
silly.  I  always  am  after  I  have  taken  care  of  a  sick  person 
and  lost  a  great  deal  of  sleep.  I  laugh  immoderately  at  every- 
thing for  a  day  or  two.  Some  people  have  headaches.  I  pre- 
sume my  silliness  answers  the  same  purpose." 

Philip  was  in  that  ineffable  state  in  which  Leigh's  silliness 
would  seem  more  charming  than  the  combined  wisdom  of  the 
rest  of  the  world ;  but  he  gave  no  sign,  only  said,  as  they 
stopped  at  Miss  Phipps's  gate, — 

"  May  I  come  down  to-night,  report  Gem's  case,  and  see 
how  you  are  ?  " 

"  From  curiosity  to  observe  the  condition  I  shall  be  in,  after 
twelve  hours  of  idiotic  laughter  ?  " 

"  Perhaps  ;  but  may  I  come  ?  " 

"  Certainly  ;  I  shall  depend  upon  hearing  from  Gem,  and 
Tom  will  be  very  glad  to  see  you,"  Leigh  said  sedately. 
"  Actually,  there  's  the  dear  boy  up  at  this  hour!"  she  ex- 


ONE     SUMMER.  219 

claimed,  as  Tom  rushed  out  of  the  house  and  down  to  the 
gate. 

"How  are  you,  Ogden?  Leigh,  what's  the  matter  with 
you?  Why  do  you  'twinkle,  twinkle'?  I'm  afraid  of 
you." 

"  So  am  I,  Tom.     Is  she  not  supematurally  brilliant  ?  " 

"  I  think  I  must  resemble  a  calcium-light/'  Leigh  said, 
laughing.  "  But,  Tom,  Tom,  why  do  you  not  inquire  about 
Gem?" 

"Because,  Leigh,  Leigh,  I  know  about  Gem,"  returned 
Tom,  mockingly.  "  Why  do  you  come  home  at  this  hour, 
with  your  inward  joy  dancing  in  your  eyes,  and  burning  in 
your  cheeks,  and  illuminating  the  whole  road  like  a  phospho- 
rescent glare  in  a  bog,  if  Gem  is  not  better  ?  " 

"  Should  you  consider  '  phosphorescent  glare '  a  compli- 
ment ? "  inquired  Leigh,  gravely.  "  Do  you  suppose  he  is 
trying  to  say  that  lama'  sunshine  in  a  shad}-  place '  ?  It 's 
only  Tom,  you  know.  He 's  a  little  addicted  to  using  large 
words  which  he  does  not  understand,  but  he  means  well." 

"  I  think  I  would  consider  it  said/in  a  Pickwickian  sense, 
Miss  Doane.  Tom,  how  do  yon  happen  to  be  awake  ?  Five 
o'clock  was  not  of  old,  methinks,  your  hour  of  rising  ?  " 

"  My  wife's  evil  conscience  roused  her,  although  she  says 
that  it  was  anxiety  about  Leigh,  and  the  consciousness  of  being 
in  a  strange  place  ;  and  she  had  no  mercy,  but  cruelly  sacrificed 
my  morning  nap  to  her  selfishness.  Ogden,  you  '11  take  break- 
fast with  us,  of  course  ?  " 

"My  sister  will  be  extremely  happy  to  have  you,"  said 
Leigh,  cordially. 


220  ONE     SUMMER. 

"  I  shall  be  glad  to  stay,  on  every  account,"  replied  Philip, 
"  but  particularly  because  Miss  Doane  has  promised  me  the 
pleasure  of  seeing  her  get  intoxicated  on  coffee." 

"  If  you  knew  her  as  well  as  I  do/'  said  Tom,  "  you  'd  grow 
hardened  and  indifferent  to  all  her  wicked  ways."  And  he 
smiled  affectionately  at  the  girl,  who  made  in  return  a  mocking 
little  face  at  him ;  and,  telling  the  gentlemen  she  would  give 
them  an  opportunity  to  abuse  her  at  their  pleasure,  she  ran  up 
to  Bessie. 

Rapidly  and  joyously  the  sisters  talked,  and  all  the  gloom 
of  the  day  before  vanished  speedily  in  the  fresh  fair  morning. 
Bessie  eagerly  asked  question  after  question  about  Gem,  and 
Leigh  as  eagerly  answered. 

"Go  to  the  ant,  thou  sluggard,  and  be  wise,"  chanted 
Tom's  mellow  barytone.     "Come  down,  you  magpies." 

"  In  a  moment,  dear,"  was  the  response.  "  Leigh's  hair  !  " 
Bessie  whispered  mysteriously,  as  he  came  up  to  expedite 
matters. 

"  And  don't  I  know  about  Leigh's  hair  in  every  possible 
state,  and  has  n't  Ogden  seen  it  flying  at  loose  ends  in  a  very 
dishevelled  and  disgraceful  condition  ?  What 's  the  use  of 
beautifying  now?  Too  late,  my  dear,  too  late!  The  mis- 
chief's done." 

"  O,  run  down,  Tom,  do,  please  !  It 's  not  polite  to  leave 
Mr.  Ogden. 

Tom  went  down. 

Presently  he  shouted,  — 

"Bessie!" 

An  animated  conversation  was  going  on  above.  He  received 
no  response. 


ONE     SUMMER.  221 

"  E-liz-a-beth  !  " 

This  was  successful.  Bessie  and  Leigh  descended  the  stairs 
together. 

"Good  morning,  Mr.  Ogden.  I  am  so  pleased  you  will 
stay  with  us,  and  so  grateful  to  you  for  bringing  my  sister 
back,"  said  Bessie  warmly  j  and,  extending  her  hand  to 
Philip,  took  his  arm,  and  led  the  way  to  the  breakfast- room. 

Tom  and  Leigh  followed,  the  former  wearing  a  curious  and 
amused  expression  as  he  observed  the  extreme  graciousness  of 
his  wife's  greeting.  So  soon  as  they  were  seated,  forgetful  of, 
or  deliberately  disregarding,  his  vow,  he  asked  in  a  soft  and 
scrupulously  polite  voice,  which  Leigh  and  Bessie  knew  inva- 
riably meant  mischief,  — 

"  Is  it  the  custom  in  Edgecomb  for  young  people  to  take 
their  pleasure-drives  at  sunrise?  Charmingly  invigorating 
habit,  is  it  not,  Ogden?  Such  freshness  everywhere,  such 
joy,  such  a  roseate  hue  over  everything,  is  there  not,  Leigh  ? 
Why,  Bessie/'  he  asked,  looking  around  with  would-be-inno- 
cent eyes,  "  what  are  you  nudging  me  with  your  foot  under 
the  table  for  ?  Does  anybody  know  what  I  've  done  ?  Have 
I  said  anything  ?  " 

"  You  never  saw  a  sunrise  before,  I  imagine,  Tom.  It 
seems  to  have  had  a  singularly  bad  effect  upon  you.  I 
would  n't  try  it  again,"  Philip  said  carelessly. 

Leigh  devoted  herself  to  her  coffee ;  and  Tom,  having  re- 
ceived a  volley  of  warning,  beseeching,  threatening  glances 
from  his  wife,  postponed  his  attack  until  a  more  favorable 
season ;  and  soon  everybody  began  to  discuss  Gem  with  en- 
thusiasm. 


222 


ONE     SUMMER. 


When  this   small   skeleton,  wickedly  summoned  by  Tom, 
liad  been  thrust  out  of  sight,  the  early  breakfast  was  a  merry 

occasion  to   each  of  the 

A 


four.  The  tall  ferns  nod- 
ded gracefully  in  the 
centre  of  the  table. 
Never  was  coffee  so 
strong  and  fragrant. 
Never  did  rolls  wear  so 
invi  ting  a  b  rown .  Never 
were  berries  so  ripe  and 
juicy.  Phipps's  features 
were  observed  more  than 
once  to  relax  their  ri- 
gidity. 

It  was  already  whis- 
pered that  Tom  was 
evidently  her  favorite 
among  her  guests, 
and  many  a  well- 
turned  compli- 
ment did  that  wily 
youth  express 
whenever  she  was 
within  hearing. 

"  How  can  you 
talk  about  femi- 
nine  arts,  you  base  deceiver?"  said  Leigh. 

"  Bread  is  the  staff  of  life,  my  child,  and  Phipps  makes 


ONE     SUMMER.  223 

my  bread.  Uncommonly  good  bread  it  is  too.  Why,  then, 
should  I  not  strive  to  .strengthen  the  bond  which  already 
exists  between  her  soul  and  mine?  Besides,  I  admire  her 
immensely/'  he  added  with  irresistible  solemnity. 

And  Miss  Phipps,  coming  into  the  room  at  that  moment, 
with  hot  rolls,  little  dreamed  what  was  the  cause  of  the 
extreme  jollity  in  which  these  curious  young  persons  were 
indulging. 

Her  inward  comment  was,  "  Never  see  sech  goin's-on  sence 
I  was  born  into  this  world,  never !  To  say  nothin'  0'  them 
brakes  stuck  up  kinder  pert-like  amongst  the  victuals  !  " 


CHAPTER    XVI. 

"  He  looked  at  her,  as  a  lover  can  ; 
She  looked  at  him,  as  one  who  awakes,  — 
The  past  was  a  sleep,  and  her  life  began." 

Brown  tng. 


(OME,  my  little  dears  !  We  cannot  stay  here  star- 
gazing forever.  That  fragile  flower  is  drooping," 
said  Tom,  pointing  to  Leigh.  Upon  a  pile  of 
planks,  lying  conveniently  upon  the  old  pier, 
which  jutted  out  from  the  middle  of  the  bridge,  Leigh  sat  at 
Bessie's  feet,  leaning  her  head  languidly  against  her  sister's 
knee.  Philip  thought  how  pale  and  sweet  both  faces  looked 
in  the  half-light,  and  Tom  paced  up  and  down  before  the 
group  with  his  cigar.  The  day  which  had  begun  for  Leigh 
with  the  joyous  sunrise  ride,  and  which  she  and  Bessie  had 
passed  lazily  under  the  trees  on  the  lawn,  or  cozily  in  the 
deep  window-seats,  was  ending  in  quiet  happiness  down  on 


ONE     SUMMER.  225 

the  old  bridge  in  the  starlight.  Edgecomb  and  the  line  of 
the  Romney  hills  lay  in  shadow,  the  water  glistened  before 
their  eyes,  a  little  new  moon  shone  faintly  in  the  western  sky, 
the  strong  salt  air  blew  refreshingly  towards  them. 

"Come,  children  !  "  repeated  Tom.  "Leigh,  are  you  going 
to  condescend  to  sleep  to-night,  or  shall  you  sit  bolt  upright, 
with  your  eyes  propped  open  ?  No  one  knows,  Philip,  how 
I  \e  labored  to-day  to  make  that  obstinate  girl  close  her 
lovely  eyelids ;  but  my  sweetest  lullaby  failed  to  move  her." 

"  Mr.  Ogden,  I  wish  you  might  have  heard  what  Tom  calls 
his  lullaby,"  said  Bessie.  "  It  was  a  series  of  direct  questions 
which  lasted  from  morning  until  you  came  to  us,  just  in  sea- 
son, I  think,  to  save  Leigh's  tottering  reason." 

"  And  every  question,"  put  in  Leigh  pathetically,  "  related 
to  me,  —  my  words,  my  ways,  my  personal  appearance.  How- 
ever interesting  one  may  be  to  one's  self,  there  is  such  a  thing 
as  holding  a  mirror  too  long  before  one's  face." 

Tom  chuckled  as  they  discoursed  upon  his  misdeeds.  It 
was  all  quite  true.  His  harrowing  conduct  that  day  would 
have  effectually  murdered  sleep  in  the  drowsiest  mortal.  He 
had  received  a  merited  reproof  from  Bessie  for  having  dared  to 
perjure  himself  so  shamelessly  at  breakfast,  and  had  been  per- 
emptorily forbidden  to  again  approach  the  delicate  ground 
upon  which,  according  to  her,  Leigh  and  Philip  were  standing. 
Debarred  thus  from  his  natural  prey,  he  was  forced  to  solace 
himself  with  such  small  game  as  came  in  his  path,  and  he 
questioned  Leigh  remorselessly  as  to  why  her  "  cheek's  pale 
opal  glowed  with  a  red  and  restless  spark,"  and  why  were  her 
eyes  so  big  and  yellow,  and  would  she  minutely  describe  her 


226  ONE     SUMMER. 

symptoms,  and  why  did  she  hop  about  so  strangely,  and  why 
did  she  do  a  dozen  different  things  in  as  many  minutes,  and  so 
on  ad  infinitum. 

"  Don't  you  believe  their  malicious  slanders,  Ogden.  Im- 
agine a  man  of  genius,  like  me,  mewed  up  in  a  country  town 
with  these  two  chattering  girls.  I  was  forced,  in  self-defence, 
to  make  a  study  of  Miss  Doane.  Dull  ignorance  cannot,  of 
course,  sympathize  with  the  investigations  of  the  scientific 
mind,"  remarked  Tom,  with  a  graceful  wave  of  his  hand,  and 
throwing  his  cigar  into  the  water.  "  Leigh's  case  is  one  of 
peculiar  interest.  I  shall  instantly  resume  my  subtle  analysis, 
—  you  understand,  young  women  !  ■ —  if  I  cannot  immediately 
prevail  upon  you  to  abandon  that  very  picturesque  attitude  and 
those  boards." 

At  this  threat  they  rose  reluctantly,  and  stood  for  a  moment 
looking  off  over  the  water. 

"  It 's  a  pity  to  go,"  said  Bessie  with  a  sigh.  "  It  is  so 
pretty,  and  it  will  never  look  the  same  again." 

"  It  is  likely  to  look  better  before  it  looks  worse,"  said 
Tom,  in  a  hearty  and  unsentimental  manner. 

"  Which  is  a  good,  comfortable  theory,  Tom,  but  it  does  not 
always  work  well,"  added  Philip. 

'  "  Nothing  can  be  as  it  has  been  before, 
Better  so  call  it,  only  not  the  same,'  " 

quoted  Leigh  softly.  And  they  turned  away  and  walked 
slowly  along  the  bridge  towards  home.  Leigh  and  Philip 
fell  a  little  behind.  They  talked  together  quietly,  as  old 
friends,  rejoiced  in  Gem's  safety,  planned  pleasant  surprises 
for  his  convalescence.  They  discussed  the  time  of  the  proba- 
ble appearance  of  the  Idlewild. 


ONE     SUMMER.  227 

"I  hope  you  will  have  the  happiest  trip  imaginable/''  said 
Philip,  "  and  get  thoroughly  rested.  With  Tom  and  Blake 
von  can't  fail  to  be  very  jolly." 

Why  did  he  not  say  "  we"  Leigh  asked  herself.  AVas  he 
not  going  to  ?  The  question  almost  passed  her  lips,  but 
something  withheld  it.  Bessie  and  Tom  were  leaning  over  the 
railing  of  the  bridge,  a  short  distance  from  them.  They  too 
stopped,  and  stood  in  silence  looking  at  the  familiar  outlines. 
There  lay  the  fort.  Each  remembered  that  gray  morning,  ages 
ago,  it  seemed  now,  when  they  had  hated  each  other  so  cor- 
dially. Far  below,  over  the  glistening  water,  rose  Birch  Point. 
How  pretty  and  spirited  she  had  looked  that  day,  Philip 
thought.     Leigh  remembered  that  she  had  said  to  herself, 

"  It  was  the  boatman  Ronsalee, 
And  he  sailed  through  the  mists  so  white," 

as  Philip  pulled  into  the  cove  so  easily  that  day.  How  lovely  it 
all  was,  with' the  western  light  shining  on  the  water  and  bring- 
ing out  so  strongly  the  different  shades  of  green  in  the  woods 
on  the  opposite  shore !  And  the  swift  wherry,  darting  in  sud- 
denly, had  not  injured  the  picturesque  effect,  nor  had  the  figure 
in  the  boat  been  deficient  in  manly  grace  and  strength,  nor  had 
the  cordial,  pleasant  voice  that  had  responded  to  Gem's  summons 
jarred  upon  her.  Had  she  liked  him  a  little  even  then,  this 
friend  whose  presence  was  so  restful  now  that  the  summer  was 
almost  gone  ?  And  he  was  not  going  with  them  in  the  yacht  ? 
Perhaps  they  might  not  see  him  when  they  returned.  W  hat 
did  he  really  mean,  she  wondered.  Leigh  felt  troubled,  con- 
fused, but  of  one  thing  she  was  almost  sure,  that  now,  as  they 
stood  quietly  in  the  starlight,  was  the  time,  the  very  last  time 


228  ONE     SUMMER. 

she  might  ever  have,  possibly,  to  thank  him  for  all  that  he  had 
clone,  and  to  speak  with  perfect  frankness  of  their  first  acquaint- 
ance. Still  she  hesitated.  She  had  been  silent  so  long,  it  was 
difficult  to  speak  now.  Yet  why  not  ?  Why  wait  a  moment 
longer  ?  There  were  Bessie  and  Tom.  She  had  only  deferred 
speaking  until  they  should  be  here.  Now  was  the  opportunity. 
"  To-morrow,  who  can  tell  ?  "  The  Idlewild  might  come  in, 
and  all  would  be  excitement  and  hurry  and  confusion,  and  she 
might  go  away  with  never  an  honest  word  of  apology,  and  leave 
Mr.  Ogden  to  think  she  was  ungenerous,  ungrateful.  She 
glanced  up  at  him.  His  face  was  dark  and  thoughtful,  as  he 
stood  erect,  looking  straight  beyond  him.  How  very,  very 
hard  it  was  for  her  to  begin  !  She  leaned  over  the  railing,  and 
tried  to  see  a  fish  which  had  just  leaped  and  stirred  the  water. 

"  Miss  Leigh,  shall  we  not  go  on  ?  "  said  Philip.  "  If  you 
were  in  your  usual  condition,  I  would  beg  you  to  stay ;  but  I 
don't  like  to  keep  you  out  this  evening,  even  with  my  man's 
selfishness,  as  you  call  it." 

"  You  do  not  keep  me,"  said  Leigh.  His  voice  had  given 
her  courage.  "  I  wish  to  stay,  for  I  have  something  to  say  to 
you,  and  I  may  not  see  much  of  you  after  this."  Philip  started, 
and  watched  her  closely.  "  I  wish  to  tell  you,"  she  went  on 
simply,  but  without  looking  up  at  him,  "  that  I  am  very  sorry 
I  was  so  rude  and  foolish,  and  received  you  in  such  an  inex- 
cusable way  at  the  fort.  I  thought,  then,  I  had  some  reason. 
I  think,  now,  I  had  none,"  she  continued  rapidly,  as  Philip 
was  about  to  speak.  "  Please  let  me  finish.  I  only  want  you 
to  know  how  good  you  've  been  to  me,  and  with  what  kindness 
and  courtesy  and  generosity  you  "ve  repaid  me  for  all  my  rude- 


ONE     SUMMER. 


229 


ness,  and  I  am  very  sorry  for  everything,  —  everything/'  she 
repeal ctl ;   "  and  if  you  can  forgive  me  —  " 

"I  beg  you  will  not   say  another  word/'  said  Philip,  in  a 

low,  hurried  voice,  taking  both  her  hands  in  his  impetuously, 


230  ONE     SUMMER. 

and  holding  them  in  a  firm  grasp.  "  You  pain  me  by  talking 
so.  Why  should  you  say  '  forgive '  to  me  ?  I  have  nothing 
to  forgive,  —  nothing  whatever.  It  is  my  place  to  beg  for 
pardon  at  your  feet,  —  for  pardon  and  for  more,  for  more,  my 
darling  —  Leigh,  do  you  not  know  —  " 

"  Ah,  don't !  "  said  Leigh,  turning  away,  and  burying  her 
face  in  her  hands.  His  .manner,  his  eager  words,  the  strange 
new  depths  in  his  voice,  were  a  revelation  to  her.  The  ten- 
derness which  had  often  sounded  in  his  tones  she  had  accepted 
unconsciously,  or  construed  into  simple  kindness  to  her  and 
Gem.  This  passionate  voice  was  a  different  thing.  She  could 
not  misunderstand  its  meaning,  nor  that  of  the  face  which  was 
looking  directly  into  her  own.  She  was  inexpressibly  weary 
in  mind  and  body.  Her  fatigue  and  excitement,  followed  by 
the  long  cpiiet  evening,  were  at  last  telling  strongly  upon  her, 
and  sending  a  penetrating  languor  over  her  whole  system. 
Never,  perhaps,  in  her  life,  had  she  been  so  utterly  unnerved 
as  she  was,  even  before  Philip  had  spoken,  and  what  he  had 
said  seemed  too  much  for  her  to  bear.  Not  once  had  she 
thought  of  this  quiet,  watchful  friend  as  a  lover.  She  had 
done  him  a  wrong.  He  had  been  good  to  her.  She  wished 
to  make  reparation,  and  to  thank  him,  before  their  lives, 
thrown  together  so  curiously  for  a  time,  should  separate  for- 
ever. She  wished  him  to  say  he  forgave  her,  in  the  old 
friendly  way.  This  new  voice  had  sounded  too  suddenly  in 
her  ears.  She  was  too  tired  to  listen  to  its  throbbing,  restless, 
seeking  tones.  Instinctively  she  had  lifted  her  hand  as  if  to 
shield  herself  from  a  blow,  and  shrinking,  troubled,  pleading, 
had  said,  — 


ONE     SUMMER.  23 1 

"  Ah  !  don't,  don't,  please  !  " 

In  an  instant   the   old  quiet   returned   to  Philip's   manner. 

He  had  waited  long,  it  seemed  to  him.     He  could  wait  longer. 

The  sweet  friendliness  of  her  manner,  as  she  offered  her  frank 

apology,  he  had  not   misunderstood,  or  estimated  for  more 

than  it  was  worth,  yet  it  seemed  that  he  had  spoken  too  soon. 

"Would  she  ever  learn  not  to  dislike  him  ?     Suddenly,  as  he 

looked  down  upon  her  half-averted  face,  a  true  appreciation  of 

Leigh's  position  dawned  upon  him,  — 

"  Because  where  reason  even  finds  no  flaw, 
Unerringly  a  lover's  instinct  may,"  — 

and  his  heart  was  filled  with  a  pitying  tenderness. 

"  I  am  a  brute  to  give  her  one  more  thought.  She  is  no 
more  fit  to  hear  me  than  a  tired  child.  It  would  be  ungenerous 
to  distress  her  by  saying  more."  Yet  Philip  found  it  almost 
beyond  his  strength  to  reason  and  wait  when  his  very  life 
seemed  trembling  in  the  balance.  He  craved  an  answer,  even 
if  it  were  that  she  cared  not  for  him.  Her  weariness,  the  pale, 
sad  face  from  which  all  the  sparkle  had  gone,  moved  him 
deeply ;  and  a  wild  impulse  to  take  the  drooping  figure  in  his 
arms,  and  draw  that  weary  head  to  his  heart,  seized  him.  lie 
set  his  teeth  together,  turned  and  looked  away  from  Leigh,  fol- 
lowing with  his  eye  the  long,  dark  line  of  the  bridge,  steadied 
himself  manfully,  and  in  a  moment  said  in  his  ordinary  man- 
ner, — 

"  Shall  we  go  on  now,  Miss  Leigh  ?  Tom  and  your  sister 
have  just  started,  I  believe."  She  took  his  proffered  arm,  and 
they  resumed  their  walk. 

"You  are  very  good,"  she  said   gratefully,  when  they  had 


232  ONE     SUMMER. 

gone  on  some  moments  in  silence.  "  I  did  not  mean  —  I  did 
not  know/'  she  went  on  brokenly ;  then,  not  even  making  an 
effort  to  complete  her  sentence,  said  simply,  "I  'm  very  tired." 

"  Yes,  I  know,"  Philip  replied  gently.  "  Forgive  me  for 
troubling  yon.  We  are  only  Gem's  two  friends  now.  He  is 
not  quite  well  yet,  and  I  may  still  claim  you  as  my  friend,  for 
his  sake,  may  I  not?  "  This  light  appeal,  and  the  old  jesting 
tone,  poor  tired  Leigh  found  that  she  could  answer  without  too 
much  perturbation. 

"  I  think  perhaps  we  are  friends  for  our  own  sakes,  through 
Gem,  of  course,  but —  "  She  hesitated;  her  words  were  still 
refractory ;  they  would  not  come  at  her  bidding. 

"  Bless  the  boy  !  "  exclaimed  Philip,  emphatically ;  and 
Leigh  looked  up  and  met  his  smile.  Was  it  a  dream,  then, 
this  scene  of  a  few  moments  before  ?  This  was  not  the  same 
man.  It  was  only  the  old  Philip,  whose  presence  gave  her  rest 
and  relief.  They  said  little  as  they  passed  up  the  village  street. 
Leigh's  brain  was  whirling,  yet  she  felt  too  fatigued  to  really 
think ;  and  Philip,  in  spite  of  the  little  repelling  gesture  with 
which  she  had  received  his  avowal,  —  in  spite  of  her  begging 
him  to  say  no  more,  —  could  not  feel  like  a  hopeless  and  de- 
spondent lover.  The  intuition  of  love  had  taught  him  why  she 
had  repulsed  him.  He  did  not  think  she  loved  him,  but  she 
had  shown  him  that  she  trusted  him.  She  had  said  that  they 
were  friends.  Perhaps  a  long,  long  patience  would  accomplish 
the  rest.  Such,  as  they  crossed  the  common,  were  his  thoughts, 
which  were  interrupted  by  Tom's  jovial  voice  in  advance. 

"  Leigh,  if  you  're  quoting  poetry,  mind  your  cse-su-ras," 
he  called  out  in  a  pedantic  and  warning  manner. 


ONE     SUMMER.  233 

"  Miss  Doane  is  too  tired  to  trouble  herself  about  trifles/' 
retorted  Philip. 

"And  who  made  him  Leigh's  champion?"  muttered  Tom. 
"  Things  must  be  advancing  rapidly,  when  that  ready  tongue 
of  hers  yields  its  right  of  retort." 

"  Did  I  not  tell  you  so  ?  "  asked  Bessie  in  triumph.  "  But 
Tom,"  — reproachfully,  —  "  how  could  you  have  said  that  to 
Leigh?  Do  you  not  know  you  might  have  intruded  your 
casuras  at  a  most  interesting  and  critical  moment  ?  " 

"  And  have  I  not  received  explicit  instruction  not  to  appear 
as  if  I  imagined  there  could  by  any  possibility  be  an  interest- 
ing moment  in  the  career  of  those  young  persons?  In  thai 
state  of  sublime  ignorance  which  you  demand  of  me,  what  was 
more  natural  than  my  charming  and  facetious  remark?  Hard 
as  I  strive  to  please  you,  I  seem  to  fail  in  every  particular." 

"Of  course  you  do,  because  you  are  an  incorrigible,  teasing 
boy,"  she  replied,  giving  a  scornful  emphasis  to  the  last  word. 

"  May  I  not  turn  round  and  ask  Leigh  if  she  observes  how 
strangely  brilliant  Venus  is  to-night  ?  "  he  meekly  asked. 

"  Indeed  you  may  not,"  Bessie  replied  severely. 

"  Well,  what  do  you  suppose  they  are  talking  about  ? " 
continued  the  wicked  Tom.  "  They  keep  me  in  awful  sus- 
pense. Why  do  they  pause  so  long  upon  the  brink  of  the 
Rubicon  ?     I  could  help  them  over.     May  n't  I,  Bessie  ?  " 

"  Hush,  Tom  !  "  putting  her  hand  over  his  lips  as  he  was 
about  to  speak.  "  You  'd  be  more  apt  to  help  them  in  and 
drown  them,"  she  whispered,  as  Leigh  and  Philip  joined  them. 

One  moment  more  Philip  had  alone  with  Leigh  that  even- 
ing.    Bessie  had  disappeared  in  search  of  wine,  which  she 


234  ONE     SUMMER. 

insisted  Leigh  must  have,  and  Tom  had  followed,  and  their 
two  laughing  voices  could  be  heard  above  as  they  unpacked  a 
hamper. 

"  Miss  Leigh,  forgive  me  if  I  trouble  you,  but  I  have  so 
much  to  say  to  yon.     May  I  say  one  little  word  more  ?  " 

"  Of  course  you  may  say  what  you  like,  Mr.  Ogden.  I  am 
not  entitled  to  so  much  consideration.  I  am  tired,  you  know, 
and  stupid/'  she  said,  putting  her  hand  to  her  head  wearily ; 
"  but  I  am  not  in  extremis.  I  can  listen  when  a  friend 
speaks."  And  Leigh  smiled  at  him  from  the  window-scat, 
as  he  stood  before  her. 

"  It  is  only  this/'  he  said  hurriedly.  u  Pardon  me  for 
saying  it  now,  but  I  may  not  have  another  opportunity.  I 
made  arrangements  a  few  weeks  ago  to  join  a  party  of  friends 
who  are  fishing  at  Manhegan,  instead  of  going  on  the  Idle- 
wild  trip.  I  thought  my  presence  would  not  be  agreeable  to 
you.  I  did  not  wonder  at  that,"  he  added,  meeting  Leigh's 
regretful,  deprecating  glance.  "You  see  I  thought,  even 
after  the  amicable  relations  we  had  assumed  '  for  Gem's  sake/ 
some  unlucky  reminiscence  would  continually  pop  up  and 
disturb  your  peace,  and  I  concluded  it  would  be  altogether 
better  if  I  should  not  go  with  you." 

"  You  were  extremely  thoughtful,"  said  Leigh,  quietly, 
turning  away,  and,  with  face  pressed  close  against  the  pane, 
peering  out  into  the  darkness. 

"But  now  I  feel  differently.  I  regret  that  I  have  agreed 
to  go  to  Manhegan.  I  have  been  due  there  some  days,  but 
could  not,  of  course,  leave  Gem."  He  paused,  then  went  on, 
growing  more  earnest  and  rapid  every  moment.     "Lately  I 


ONE     SUMMER.  235 

have  dared  to  hope  that  my  presence  on  the  yacht  might  not 
drive  away  all  your  pleasure.  Leigh,  I  have  not  thought  it, 
I  have  only  hoped,  and  I  have  even  dared  to  tell  myself  that 
possibly  yon  would  allow  me  to  join  the  party  later  at  some 
place  where  the  yacht  puts  in."  Leigh  listened  silently,  but 
did  not  turn  her  head.  "Do  not  misunderstand  me.  I  am 
asking  nothing  of  yon.  Yon  pledge  yourself  to  nothing. 
It  is  simply  your  permission  to  see  you  again,  —  to  receive 
from  yon  a  friend's  welcome,  —  only  that."  And  his  voice 
pleaded  so  earnestly  that  again  he  held  himself  back,  and  said, 
"Forgive  me,  —  try  to  forgive  me,  —  lam  presuming  again 
upon  your  patience.  You  need  not  answer  a  word  to-night," 
he  said,  as  Leigh  turned  towards  him.  "  I  have  no  right  to 
distress  you.  Y^et  how  can  I  be  wholly  silent  ?  "  he  exclaimed 
impetuously. 

Leigh  rose  from  the  window-seat,  and  stood  before  him. 
There  may  have  been  a  little  quiver  about  the  sensitive  mouth, 
and  her  clasped  hands  were  pressed  closely  together,  but  she 
spoke  calmly. 

"  Mr.  Ogden,  I  cannot,  of  course,  fail  to  understand  you. 
Pardon  me  if  I  wras  cowardly  and  childish  on  the  bridge  just 
now.  You  have  a  right  to  speak  and  be  answered.  You 
startled  me;  and  you  give  me  much  to  think  of,  —  far,  far 
too  much  for  me  to  answer  now."  Here  she  faltered  a  little  ; 
then  regaining  her  composure,  "  Yet  I  would  like  you  to 
know  that  I  think  you  are  very,  very  good  to  me,  and  such 
goodness  as  yours  demands  in  return  fair,  honest  treatment  at 
least."  ■  Looking  earnestly  into  Philip's  eager  face,  she  said, 
"  You  say  I  pledge  myself  to  nothing  by  what  I  say  now  ?  " 


236  ONE     SUMMER. 

"Absolutely  nothing." 

"  I  am  glad/'  Leigli  said  simply.  "  I  could  not  promise 
anything.     I  do  not  know/' 

"  Yoivneed  not  promise,  and  you  need  not  know.". 

"  Then,  Mr.  Ogden,"  slowly,  and  with  grave,  sweet  dignity, 
"  I  would  be  pleased  if  you  were  to  go  with  us  on  the  Idle- 
wild  ;  and  if  you  care  to  join  us  by  and  by,  I  will  give  you 
the  friend's  welcome.  I  think  I  will  not  wait  for  my  sister. 
Good  night,  Mr.  Ogden." 

Reverentially j  as  if  she  were  a  young  princess,  Philip  lifted 
to  his  lips  the  hand  she  extended  to  him,  and  thus  silently  ex- 
pressed his  gratitude. 

Afterwards  lie  and  Tom  sat  smoking  together  at  the  door. 

"  Tom,"  said  Philip  deliberately  between  his  puffs,  "  have 
you  anything  to  say  against  me,  —  my  moral  character,  tem- 
per, position,  business  prospects  ?  " 

Tom  turned  squarely  round,  looked  Philip  in  the  face,  and 
said,  — 

".  Can't  say  that  I  have." 

"  '  Speak  now,  or  forever  after  hold  your  peace.'  " 

"  11m  !  as  far  along  as  that  ?  Do  you  want  to  shake  hands, 
Ogden  ?  " 

"  Wait,  Tom.  I  don't  wish  to  take 'your  hand  under  false 
pretences.  I  am  addressing  you  formally,  now,  as  Miss 
Doane's  natural  protector,  and  announcing  my  intentions 
simply.     What  hers  may  be  is  a  different  matter." 

"  My  dear  Philip,  as  Miss  Doane's  guardian,  then,  I  give 
you  my  hearty  approval  and  sympathy ;  and,  as  a  keen  ob- 
server of  the  fair  sex,  I  feel  justified  in  assuring  you  that 
there  can  be  no  reasonable  doubt  of  a  delightful  unanimity 


ONE     SUMMER. 


237 


of  sentiment  between  you. 
plied, 


Philip  smiled  and   quietly   re- 
It  is  out  of 


"The  matter  rests  with  Miss  Doane,  Tom 
my  hands.     I  await  her  decision." 

The  two  youug  men  smoked  on  in  silence. 
"  Brother  !  embrace  me  !  "  burst  forth  from  the  irrepressi 
ble  Tom. 

"  Excuse  me/'  said 
Philip,  laughing.  "  The 
relationship  is  horribly 
premature,  and  as  for  the 
demonstration,  I  should 
n't  enjoy  it.'' 

"  Will  you  shake  hands, 
then  ?  " 

"Withpleasure."  And 
each  took  the  other's 
hand,  with  that  strong, 
long  grasp  in  which  men, 
deeming  words  at  such 
moments  a  meaningless 
form,  express  hearty  good- 
will, affection,  it  may  b*e. 
Behind  Tom's  jesting 
manner  his  honest  soul 
looked   out    and   wished 

his  friend  goodspeed ;  and  Philip  saAv  it,  thanked  him  in  his 
heart,  and  went  off  down  the  road  to  the  cottage  at  a  rapid, 
swinging  gait,  with  hopeful,  happy  fancies  thronging  in  his 
mind,  all  created  by  "  the  might  of  one  fair  face." 


CHAPTER    XVII 


"  To  say  why  girls  act  so  or  so, 
Or  don't,  'ould  be  presumin'. 
Mebby  to  mean  yes  and  say  no 
Comes  nateral  to  women." 

Lowell. 

"  Heart,  are  ye  great  enough 
For  a  love  that  never  tires  ?  " 

TEN.NYSOX. 

WEEK  passed.  Gem  steadily  improved,  and  each 
day  Leigh  sat  with  him,  told  stories,  sang  to  him, 
and  made  the  long  hours  seem  shorter,  to  the  rest- 
less, impatient  child.  Bessie  came,  too ;  and  Gem, 
although  at  first  a  little  shy  with  her,  —  for  his  illness  had 
changed  him  somewhat,  —  soon  grew  to  watcli  for  her  coining 


ONE     SUMMER.  239 

also,  and  to  welcome  "  Miss  Leigh's  Bessie,"  who  was  "  like 
Miss  Leigh  an'  yet  she  war  n't,  an'  talked  like  Miss  Leigh  and 
yet  she  did  n't."  Tom  fussed  and  fumed,  and  declared  that 
he  was  dying  of  neglect,  and  that  he  had  heard  nothing  but 
"Gem  this  and  Gem  that,"  since  he  came;  yet  evidence  of 
his  warm  interest  was  not  wanting  at  the  boy's  bedside.  One 
day  he  brought  out  some  choice  wine,  with  a  stern,  "  Take 
that  to  yon  pampered  fledgling."  And  curious  wooden  puz- 
zles, just  light  enough  for  small,  weak  fingers  to  play  with, 
and  not  too  intricate  for  the  little  brain,  wearied  by  long 
illness,  to  solve,  appeared  mysteriously  in  baskets  of  fruits 
and  flowers  which  Bessie  sent  to  Gem. 

Philip  was  much  with  Tom,  and  saw  little  of  Leigh  during 
the  few  days  he  remained  in  Edgecomb.  He  had  long  talks 
with  Gem  when  Leigh  was  not  at  the  cottage.  When  she 
would  enter  the  room,  he  would  resign  his  place  near  the  in- 
valid, and,  after  a  friendly  word  or  two,  go  out.  His  manner 
was  as  of  old  during  Gem's  illness.  They  two  were  Gem's 
friends  simply.  He  was  quietly  waiting,  giving  her  time, 
making  no  allusion  to  the  deeper  waters  they  had  entered. 
Only  once,  and  then  just  before  his  departure,  he  said, — 

"I  shall  go  to  Manhegan  to-morrow.  I  still  have  your 
permission  to  join  the  Idlewild  party?  " 

"  Yes,  if  you  can  find  us,"  she  answered  gayly.  "  From  all 
I  can  hear,  I  imagine  we  are  going  to  be  a  very  erratic 
band  of  voyagers,  and  you,  in  search  of  us,  may  go  flying 
by  some  little  harbor  where  we  are  safely  at  anchor  all  the 
time." 

"  I  think  I  shall  be  able  to  find  you  without  much  dim- 


24O  ONE     SUMMER. 

culty/'  Philip  returned  with  a  smile.  "  The  coast  of  Maine 
will  give  us  an  extended  field  for  a  game  of  hide-and-seek. 
You  will  not  escape  me,  unless  you  do  it  wilfully." 

"I  promise  to  'play  fair.'  " 

"  Thank  you.  Then  I  shall  certainly  find  you  some- 
where." 

"  '  Somewhere,  somewhen,  somehow/  as  it  says  in  '  Water 
Babies/  "  added  Leigh,  laughing.  "Delightfully  vague,  is  it 
not  ?  Good  by,  then,  Mr.  Ogden.  I  wish  you  a  charming 
time,  and  ever  so  many  fish  at  Manhegan.  You  must  bring 
us  some  stories  from  the  rocky,  wild  old  place.  The  fishermen 
there  ought  to  be  wonderfully  interesting." 

"  I  '11  try  to  pick  up  something  worth  repeating.  Every 
new  idea  I  gain  is  of  enormous  value  to  me,  as  my  mind  only 
dwells  upon  events  which  have  occurred  since  Gem's  illness/" 
Philip  said,  with  a  curious  smile.  And,  though  the  good-by 
was  spoken,  he  still  lingered.  "  My  previous  history  is  a 
blank." 

"  Perhaps  it  would  be  well  for  both  of  us  to  bury  a  few 
weeks  in  oblivion,"  said  Leigh,  demurely.  "I  am  sure  when 
I  view  myself  in  certain  lights,  I  am  not  an  edifying  spectacle. 
It  was  all  very  ridiculous,  was  it  not?  But  I  'm  sorry  ;  and 
Mr.  Ogden,"  she  went  on,  roguishly,  "if  it  will  afford  you 
any  pleasure,  you  may  break  my  poor  little  umbrella  into  a 
thousand  pieces,  although  Tom  did  bring  it  to  me  from  Lon- 
don, and  my  affections  still  cling  to  it,  in  spite  of  its  depravity. 
And  you  may  burn  that  foolish  sketch-book,  with  solemn  and 
appropriate  rites,"  she  went  on  merrily.  "  And  can  I  give 
you  satisfaction  in  any  other  way?  " 


ONE     SUMMER.  241 

"  You  know  perfectly  well   that  you  can,"  was  the  low 
response. 

Philip  had  not  intended  to  urge  his  suit  as  he  hade  her  fare- 
well for  a  few  days.  He  had  contemplated  a  cool  and  un- 
sentimental leave-taking,  as  a  sort  of  sanitary  measure,  which 
would  benefit  him  in  the  end.  He  saw  that  Leigh  was  nol 
quite  sure  of  herself,  nor  did  he  wonder  at  all  that  she  wanted 
time  to  think.  He  looked  forward  with  a  firm,  patient  hope 
to  the  day  when  he  should  gain  her  love.  Pie  felt  in  some 
way  assured  that  that  day  would  surely  come.  If  Leigh  had 
not  had  some  little  regard  —  affection,  it  maybe  —  for  him, 
he  reflected,  with  a  wondering  thankfulness,  if  it  would  be 
impossible  for  her  to  care  for  him  as  he  wished  her  to  care,  she 
would  have  known  it  at  once,  and  would  have  told  him  so  in 
frank  womanly  words.  Their  present  intercourse,  which  out- 
wardly resembled  the  calm  ease  of  a  long  friendship,  would 
have  been  impossible,  had  he  been  an  uncertain  aspirant  for 
higher  honors.  Gem  was  still  the  connecting  link,  and  there 
were  all  the  curious  and  familiar  elements  of  life  among  the 
Holbrooks,  which  made  it,  to  a  certain  extent,  natural  that 
they  should  sink  back  into  the  old  grooves ;  yet  beneath  this 
surface  life  was  the  deep  undertone.  She  had  given  him  en- 
couragement, and  he  was  showing  her  plainly,  that,  so  long  as 
she  needed,  she  might  rely  upon  his  patience  and  delicate 
consideration  for  her  doubts.  He  understood  her  far  better 
than  Leigh  imagined.  She  was  not  a  girl  who  was  in  a 
chronic  state  of  listening,  breathless  expectation  of  a  proposal 
of  marriage  from  every  eligible  man  she  met.  He  had  watched 
her  very  closelv.     He  had  seen  that  she  would  greet  him  with 


242  ONE     SUMMER. 

sweet,  pleased  eyes,  when  he  would  join  her,  after  an  absence 
of  some  hours ;  vet  he  had  also  seen  that  her  welcome,  while 
it  evinced  trust  and  sympathy,  was  too  frank  to  lie  very  far 
below  the  surface.  He  knew  that  his  little  attentions,  his 
constant  care  of  her,  she  had  accepted  all  along,  as  she,  with 
her  honest,  innocent  heart,  could  not  have  done,  had  she  not 
felt  a  real  liking  for  him  ;  yet  it  had  been  only  a  liking,  Philip 
saw.  Why  should  it  grow  in -one  moment  into  a  great  resist- 
less love  like  his  own.  True  love  is  by  turns  humble  and 
proud.  Philip  was  in  the  stages  of  humility.  "  Any  sweet, 
good  woman  is  too  good  for  the  best  man  that  walks  the 
earth/''  he  said  to  himself.  And  why  should  this  rare  Leigh, 
this  priceless  pearl  of  women,  "  so  purer  than  the  purest,"  be 
his  at  once  for  the  asking  ?  He  could  wait,  for  he  knew  well 
its  fair  radiance  was  destined  to  shine  into  his  life.  Why, 
then,  with  so  dear  and  blessed  a  hope,  should  he  not  be 
patient  ?  So  he  had  reasoned  ;  yet,  as  Leigh  had  looked  up 
at  him,  and  carelessly  asked  if  there  was  any  other  way  in 
which  she  could  give  him  satisfaction,  involuntarily  he  had 
answered  with  his  whole  soul  in  his  voice,  and  the  tone  and 
word  could  not  be  recalled. 

Leigh  stood  leaning  against  one  of  the  pillars  which  sup- 
ported Miss  JPhipps's  "  antique  portico,"  with  the  light  from 
the  hall  streaming  out  upon  her  face. 

The  usual  group  of  four  had  been  chatting  out  in  the  porch, 
but  Bessie  had  judiciously  departed,  dragging  away  with  her 
the  reluctant  Tom,  and  calmly  announcing  a  palpably  improb- 
able reason  for  withdrawing. 

Tom  feelingly  remonstrated, — 


ONE     SUMMER.  243 

"  If  you  will  persist  in  being  general  of  this  army,  Bessie, 
I  wish  you  might  become  a  more  profound  tactician  ;  and  I 
.musi  protest  against  wife  of  mine  making  such  unblushingly 
mendacious  assertions.  That  last  was  too  painfully  attenu- 
ated,—  the  very  libbiest  of  fibs.''' 

"Tom,"  Bessie  said,  oracularly,  "  Mr.  Ogden  is  going  away. 
Everything  depends  upon  what  is  done  at  this  moment.  Fare- 
wells are  extremely  important." 

"  Why  do  you  not  write  a  book  ?  '  Love-Making  Made 
Easy  '  would  attract  attention,  and  I  never,  in  all  my  life, 
nut  anybody  who  knew  quite  so  much  about  it  as  you  do." 

"  Who  taught  me,  I  'd  like  to  know  !  "  was  the  pert  and 
pointed  rejoinder. 

"I  'in  sure  I  can't  imagine,"  retorted  Tom,  with  a  reflec- 
tive air.  "  Let  me  think.  Barton,  was  n't  it,  or  Nettleton, 
or  Allen,  or  some  other  one  of  those  dandy  fellows,  who  were 
always  spinning  about  you  until  I  appeared,"  lie  went  on 
with  a  magnificent  flourish,  "  and  they  vanished  like  dew  be- 
fore the  sun.  Yet  what  I  did  in  those  old  and  halcyon  days, 
my  beloved,  I  accomplished  by  my  own  unaided  genius.  No 
one  ever  spread  cotton-wool  in  my  path  as  you  do  in  Ogdeu's," 
he  murmured  plaintively.  "And  Leigh,  too,  —  it  was  not  ever 
thus.  She  was  not  once  so  brittle.  Will  she  really  break  if  I 
touch  her?" 

"  Tom,  you  know  you  are  quite  as  much  interested  as  I  am, 
only  you  are  too  ridiculous  to  acknowledge  it." 

"Interested?  Of  course  I  am,  only  I  don't  want  to  be 
harassed  and  hampered,  and  prevented  from  showing  my  in- 
terest in  my  own  peculiar  and  pleasing  method.     A  pretty 


244  ONE     SUMMER. 

way  to  evince  interest  it  is  to  rush  off  into  the  dining-room 
and  close  two  doors  behind  one,  so  one  cannot  possibly  hear 
what  is  going  on.  I  want  to  hear,  I  tell  you !  I  want  to  be 
on  the  spot.  Why  do  you  restrain  me,  you  cruel  woman  ? 
I  want  to  give  Ogden  an  encouraging  pat  on  the  back,  and 
charm  Leigh  with  my  naivete  and  innocent  prattle  !  " 

"  0  Tom,  do  be  quiet ! "  said  Bessie,  stifling  with  laughter. 
"  You  grow  worse  and  worse.     They  will  certainly  hear  you." 

"  I  wish  they  would.  It  might  hurry  up  the  final  tableau. 
Sweet  thing  !  "  he  exclaimed,  rolling  his  eyes.  "  Can't  you 
see  it,  Bessie  ?  Ogden  and  Leigh  joining  hands,  just  before 
the  foot-lights,  and  bowing  gracefully  to  the  audience.  I,  at 
stage  right,  doing  the  heavy  walking-gentleman  to  perfection, 
the  tearful  old  paternal,  the  '  bless  you,  my  children  '  style  of 
thing,  you  know,  while  a  smile  of  righteous  joy  will  play  over 
my  mobile  features,  and 

'  How  pleasant  is  Saturday  night, 
When  we  've  tried  all  the  week  to  be  good,' 

will  emanate  from  my  whole  presence,  and  —  " 

"  That  's  more  than  enough  about  you,  you  egotistical,  con- 
ceited creature  !     Where  will  I  be,  if  you  please,  sir?  " 

"  You  ?  You  will  play  watchful,  protecting  spirit  then,  as 
you  do  now,  my  angel.  You  will  be  '  the  sweet  little  cherub 
that  sits  up  aloft/  at  the  extreme  top  of  the  stage  left.  You 
will  wear  spangled  tarlatan,  a  gilt-paper  crown,  and  a  delicious 
smirk;  and  your  exquisite  arms,  to  which  will  be  attached 
gorgeous  pink  calico  wings,  will  dreamily  wave,  and  fling 
down  beni sons  upon  the  happy  pair,  while  the  supernumerary 


ONE     SUMMER.  245 

will  burn  beautiful  yellow  and  green  light  at  the  wings,  and 
the  badly  tuned  violins  will  wail,  and  the  curtain  will  fall  amid 
tumultuous  applause." 

"  Tom,  I  do  not  think  I  can  tolerate  such  a  scene  as  this 
even  in  joke,  and  from  you.  Who  ever  heard  of  an  angel  in 
pink  ?  " 

"  And  should  not  the  angel  of  love  appear  in  rose-color  ?  " 

"  And  yellow  and  green  lights  !  Your  description  is  abomi- 
nable, and  highly  improper,  too,  being  strangely  suggestive  of 
Black  Crook  transformation  scenes/' 

While  they  talked  thus  after  their  usual  fashion  in  the 
dining-room,  where  Bessie  had  caged  her  husband,  out  at  the 
porch  a  conversation  of  different  import  was  going  on. 

Philip  had  spoken  again. 

"  You  know  perfectly  well  that  you  can,"  he  had  said. 
"  My  life  is  in  your  hands." 

Leigh's  heart  beat  fast,  and  she  nervously  pulled  in  pieces 
a  honeysuckle-blossom,  sacrificing  the  fragrant,  unoffending 
flower  in  her  troubled  mood. 

"  Mr.  Ogden,  may  I  speak  very  frankly  to  you  ?  I  think 
there  should  be  no  disguise  between  us,  whatever  may  come, 
and  I  know  you  will  not  misunderstand  me ;  and  you  will  par- 
don me  if  what  I  am  about  to  say  seems  strange  ?  " 

"  Do  not  hesitate  to  say  anything  you  wish.  I  cannot  mis- 
understand. " 

"  In  all  these  days  in  which  you  have  been  so  good,  and 
have  given  me  time  to  think,  it  seems  to  me  I  ought  to  feel 
sure  of  myself,  and  I  am  not,  Mr.  Ogden.  I  am  so  sorry,  bt& 
I  feel  troubled,  full  of  doubt," 


246  ONE     SUMMER. 

"  Why  should  you  not  feel  so  ?  It  is  no  light  thing,  I  ask 
of  you/'  Philip  said  gently.  Then,  after  a  moment,  "  Could 
you  tell  me  what  especially  makes  you  troubled  ?  " 

"  I  would  like  to  tell  you  if  I  can.  I  wish  to  show  you 
what  is  in  my  heart.  It  seems  to  me  the  only  way,"  she  hesi- 
tated. Again  the  innocent  honeysuckle-vine  suffered,  as  Leigh's 
unconscious  hands  ruthlessly  showered  leaf  and  flower  upon 
the  steps.  Abruptly  she  began.  "  Mr.  Ggden,  it  is  so  differ- 
ent from  my  theories.  All  girls  have  theories,  you  know.  I 
cannot  deny  that  I  care  for  you  more  than  I  ever  cared  for 
any  one  before,"  she  said  slowly,  and  so  low,  that  Philip 
scarcely  heard  the  words  that  were  so  dear  to  him.  "Wait," 
she  went  on,  with  a  little  imperious  gesture,  as  Philip  eagerly 
began  to  speak,  —  "  wait.  I  care  for  you  more,  but  how  can 
I  be  sure  that  I  care  for  you  enough  ?  How  can  I  ?  "  And 
the  earnestness  of  her  voice  deepened  as  she  repeated  her  ques- 
tion, and  looked  straight  into  the  eyes  of  the  man  that  loved 
her.  "  You  have  been  good  to  me.  You  have  cared  for  me 
constantly  in  little  kind  ways.  Mrs.  Browning  says,  '  these 
things  have  their  weight  with  girls'";  and  a  faint  smile 
trembled  about  Leigh's  lips.  "  I  suppose  she  knew.  You 
have  been  with  me  weeks  and  weeks.  I  have  grown  used  to 
you,  and  now  you  tell  me  that  you  love  me;  and  in  return  I 
give  much  regard,  a  grateful  affection  perhaps,  but  is  it  love  ? 
It  is  not  like  the  love  I  have  dreamed  of ! "  she  exclaimed 
passionately. 

Philip  wondered  if  there  were  another  woman  in  the  world 
so  true  as  the  one  who  stood  before  him,  trying  to  let  him 
read  her  verv  heart  as  if  it  were  an  open  book,  and  whose  face 


ONE     SUMMER.  247 

and  attitude  and  voice,  by  sudden  eloquent  little  changes  each 
moment,  seemed  to  reveal  every  phase  of  the  feeling  which 
stirred  her  so  deeply. 

He  did  not  speak,  for  he  saw  that  she  had  more  to  say  to  him. 

"  Let  me  speak  more  plainly/''  And  she  carefully  chose 
liei  words,  and  endeavored  to  be  quite  calm.  "Your  presence 
makes  me  very  happy.  I  think  I  would  like  you  to  come 
very  often  to  my  sister's  home,  yet  I  do  not  feel  that  for  you 
I  would,  if  you  asked  me  to-day,  give  up  that  home,  and  all 
the  pleasant  things  in  my  old  life,"  Leigh  went  on  bravely, 
though  she  was  evidently  making  a  mighty  effort.  "  I  have 
always  believed  no  woman  ought  to  marry  a  man,  if  she  feels 
she  can  under  any  circumstances  be  happy  without  him.  Am 
I  talking  strangely  ?  Forgive  me.  Do  not  be  angry  with 
me.  I  do  care  very  much  for  you,  and  I  should  miss  you  if 
you  did  not  come  to  my  home,  and  I  should  think  of  you 
often  at  first,  but  after  a  time  I  think  I  might  be  quite  happy 
without  you."  Then,  with  a  tremulous  voice,  suggestive  of 
the  deepest  emotion,  and  also  of  a  nervous  desire  to  laugh,  she 
said,  "  A  woman,  if  she  really  loves  a  man,  ought  to  be  will- 
ing to  go  and  live  in  a  log-cabin  with  him,  out  on  the  prairies, 
and  I  do  not  love  you  enough  for  that.  I  know  I  do  not. 
Do  not  think  me  speaking  lightly,"  she  said  pleadingly.  "  It 
is  so  hard  to  tell  "you  exactly  what  I  mean,  and  I  am  so  sad  at 
heart.  But  when  you  offer  me  so  royal  a  gift  as  your  love, 
when  you  place  all  that  you  have,  and  all  that  you  are,  at 
my  feet,  I  must,  at  least,  give  you  absolute  truth  in  re- 
turn. You  see  how  I  trust  you.  I  am  trying  to  tell  you 
every  thought." 


248  ONE     SUMMER. 

"  I  know  that  you  trust  me,"  Philip  said,  taking  in  his  own 
her  two  trembling  hands,  and  holding  them  firmly,  "  and  I 
believe  that  I  can  teach  you  to  love  me.  Leigh,  you  must 
love  me  a  little,  or  you  could  not  let  me  hold  these  dear  hands 
in  mine,  nor  touch  them  with  my  lips.  See,  I  kiss  them  over 
and  over,  and  you  do  not  draw  them  away.  Already  you  give 
me  far  more  than  I  deserve,  and  for  the  rest  I  can  wait  very, 
very  patiently." 

Leigh  was  touched  indescribably  by  the  quiet  tenderness  of 
his  manner. 

"  But/''  she  said,  "  is  this  right  ?  What  if  the  day  comes 
when  I  look  you  in  the  face  and  say  I  do  not  love  you  ? 
What  would  you  think  of  me  then  ? " 

"  I  should  think  what  I  think  now,  that  your  true  heart 
had  revealed  itself  to  me  in  all  honor." 

"  But  I  ought  to  know  ;  it  is  weak  to  hesitate.  I  cannot 
bear  to  think  that  I  may  be  deceiving  you." 

"  You  cannot  deceive  me.  Let  your  heart  be  quite  at  rest. 
Do  not  question  yourself  and  be  troubled  any  longer,  for, 
whatever  comes,  you  will  not  have  deceived  me  for  one  mo- 
ment. But,  dear,  I  think  you  will  love  me.  Do  you  forgive 
me  for  feeling  so  sure  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Ogden,  will  I  seem  foolish  if  I  ask  you,  how  do  I 
know  but  some  day  I  may  experience  a  stronger,  deeper  love 
than  that  which  I  feel  for  you  ?     I  have  not  seen  everybody." 

Philip  smiled  at  her  unconscious  admission,  and  at  the  utter 
simplicity  of  her  manner. 

"Dear,  you  will  honor  me  beyond  all  the  world,  if  you 
will  give   me  the  happiness  of  assuming  that  risk."     Then 


ONE     SUMMER.  249 

he  said,  more  gravely,  "  I  know  well  that  I  am  no  hero. 
Yon  will  meet  many  a  person  more  like  the  ideal  man  you 
may  have  dreamed  of  loving,  but  I  love  you  with  my  whole 
soul,  Leigh." 

"  When  you  speak  so,  you  place  me  in  a  different  atmos- 
phere. It  is  as  if  I  were  quite  promised  to  you,"  Leigh  said, 
in  a  pained,  low  voice.  "  I  have  always  been  so  decided  in 
everything,  and  I  have  felt  so  distressed  in  the  last  few  days 
because  of  my  doubts.  Love,  real  love,  never  hesitates  so. 
Are  you  sure  that  you  understand?  I  cannot  feel  that  I 
wish  to  lose  you  utterly ;  yet,  Mr.  Ogden,  you  are  very  far 
from  being  all  the  world  to  me.  Do  you  think  you  under- 
stand?" 

"  Everything,  everything,  and  what  you  tell  me  makes  me 
profoundly  happy,  and  I  love  you  a  thousand  times  more  for 
every  noble  word  you  have  said  to-night.  I  have  unspeakable 
faith  in  your  perfect  truth  towards  me.  Whatever  you  do  will 
be  sweet  and  right.'" 

"  I  shall  feel  differently  now.  You  are  so  good  it  rests 
me." 

"  You  have  given  me  such  happiness,  such  blessed 
hope !  " 

"  Ah,  but  please  do  not  be  happy  quite  vet !  I  do  not 
know." 

"I  know,"  said  Philip,  under  his  breath.  "Will  you  say 
good  by  to  your  sister  and  Tom  for  me  ?  I  want  you  all 
alone,  just  as  you  stand  there,  so  fair  and  sweet,  with  the 
lovely  eyes  looking  up  at  me,  and  telling  me  that  you  love  me 
a  little,  for  the  very  last  picture  I  take  away  in  my  heart  from 


250 


ONE     SUMMER. 


here."     And,  bending  again  over  the  hands  he  held  so  closely, 

he  said,  "  I  can  be  quite  pa- 
tient, only  trust  me,  dear." 
And  in  a  moment  his  step 
sounded  rapidly  on  the 
pavement,  and  Leigh  was 
alone.  But  not  long  was 
she  left  to  her  sweet  medi- 
tations. Out  came  Tom, 
carefully  guarded  by  Bes- 
sie. His  long-suppressed 
mischief,  forbidden  to  ex- 
press itself  in  words,  found 
vent  in  '  prolonged,  in- 
quiring stares,  and  glances 
of  commiseration,  a  n  d 
Bessie's  most  frantic  ef- 
forts did  not  prevent  him 
from  drawling  out,  in  a 
s  upernat  urally  sole  m  n 
voice,  — 

"  Blest  is  the  tie  th;it  b-i-n-d-s, 
Dum  di  do,  di  dmn  de, 
The  fellowship  of  kindred  m-i-n-d-s, 
Dum  di  do,  di  dum  de," 

as    he    passed   Leigh  her 
candle,   and  gave  her  an  affectionate  good-night. 


CHAPTER   XYIII. 


"  Whence  came  ye,  jolly  Satyrs  !     Whence  came  ye, 
So  many,  and  so  many,  and  such  glee?  " 

Keats. 

'rp^^l  HAT  amazing  sounds  !  "  exclaimed  Leigh,  as  she, 
with  Tom  and  Bessie,  returning  from  Gem's  late 
one  afternoon,  rode  slowly  along  the  winding 
wood-road.  "  Are  we  coming  upon  sylvan  dei- 
ties at  their  revels?  "  And  they  all  peered  curiously  through 
the  trees. 

The  approaching  sounds  grew  more  distinct,  and  Tom  re- 
marked, "  Whatever  they  may  be,  they  are  singing  college- 
songs,  with  immense  gusto  ;  and  no  faun  that  ever  capered 
could  shout  in  Blake's  basso  profunda,  which  greets  me  now, 
if  my  ears  do  not  deceive  me." 

He  whipped  up  his  horse  in  some  excitement,  and  a  sudden 


252  ONE     SUMMER. 

turn  in  the  road  disclosed  three  young  men,  walking  arm  in 
arm,  smiling  broadly  upon  the  universe,  and  melodiously 
chanting  the  inspiring  strains  of  Crambambuli,  while  one  of 
them  vigorously  beat  time  with  a  long  leafy  branch.  When  he 
saw  Tom  he  wildly  waved  his  baton  high  in  the  air,  and  rushed 
forward.  Tom  made  a  dashing  leap  over  the  wheel  of  the  old 
wagon,  and  ejaculating,  "  That  eye  !  Those  nose  !  'T  is  he  !  " 
ran  to  meet  him,  and  the  two  in  a  pathetic  manner  threw  them- 
selves into  each  other's  outstretched  arms,  while  the  long 
branch  gently  and  ridiculously  swayed  over  their  heads. 

"  Ladies,  pardon  our  emotion,"  said  Mr.  Blake,  approaching 
the  wagon,  and  receiving  laughing  and  cordial  greetings  from 
Bessie  and  Leigh,  "  but  we  only  arrived  an  hour  ago.  We 
were  in  search  of  you.  My  joy  at  beholding  Tom's  beloved 
form  was  uncontrollable.  Here  's  Morton,  whom  you  know, 
but  perhaps  you  did  not  know  that  he  is  suspected  of  writing 
poetry ;  and  my  young  brother,  whom  you  used  to  know  before 
he  shot  up  so  marvellously.  Infant,  make  your  best  bow  to 
the  ladies.  The  gallant  crew  of  the  Idlewild  is  reduced  to 
these  three  gloomy  and  ancient  mariners,  upon  whom  I  beg 
you  will  take  pity." 

"  You  do  look  sad,  Mr.  Blake,"  said  Leigh,  "  and  the 
voices  of  all  of  you  gentlemen  sounded  full  of  an  untold  woe 
as  you  crept  so  wearily  down  the  hill.  Did  you  venture,  may 
I  ask,  to  come  through  the  village  so  ?  "  And  she  looked 
smilingly  at  young  Blake. 

"  We  did  not  sing  till  Ave  got  to  the  woods,  and  Dick  had 
no  branch  to  flourish,  and  that,  I  suppose,  added  to  our  im- 
posing effect ;  still  we  rather  flatter  ourselves  we  made  a  sen- 


ONE     SUMMER.  253 

sation.  We  marched  arm  in  arm  straight  from  the  yacht  to 
your  present  domicile,  inquiring  our  way,  of  course.  The  in- 
habitants rushed  to  the  doors  and  windows,  and  l  the  little  dog 
laughed  to  see  such  sport '  —  " 

"  And  here  we  are,  suppliants  before  you,"  interrupted  his 
brother.  "  We  have  left  all  the  good  comrades,  with  whom 
we  started,  at  one  place  after  another  on  the  coast.  Can  you 
join  us  to-morrow,  Mrs.  Otis  ?  " 

"O,  thanks,  but  to-morrow  is  so  very  soon  !  " 

"  Have  pity  on  Morton.  He  has  to  read  his  odes  to  our 
dull  ears." 

"  I  'm  not  conscious  of  having  perpetrated  an  ode  since 
I  've  been  on  the  Idlewild,"  remarked  the  latter  gentleman ; 
"  but  the  most  prosaic  individual,  like  our  emaciated  friend," 
—  putting  his  hand  on  Mr.  Blake's  stalwart  shoulder,  — 
"  might  have  a  soul  above  mackerel,  and  immortalize  himself 
in  verse,  if  you  ladies  would  only  grace  the  yacht  with  your 
presence." 

"  And  Will  here,"  went  on  Mr.  Blake,  "  he  's  young.  He 
writes  the  Log  and  makes  our  puns.  That  is,  he  makes  the 
most  and  the  worst.  We  've  tried  to  humor  the  child  and 
laugh,  but  there  has  been  an  awful  gloom  over  the  yacht  of 
late,  and  we  can  laugh  no  more.  You  ladies  have  kind  hearts. 
Will  you  not  encourage  the  youth?  " 

"  If  you  will  allow  me  to  offer  you  some  friendly  advice," 
said  Bessie  to  Will,  "  I  would  suggest  that  you  resign  your 
office  of  punster-in-chief  before  Mr.  Otis  goes  on  board.  He 
will  be  a  powerful  rival.  His  puns,  when  he  is  much  excited, 
are  the  worst  in  the  world.  No  one  can  possibly  surpass 
him." 


254  ONE     SUMMER. 

Whereupon  the  boy  responded,  that  if  he  were  forced  to 
resign  the  only  position  in  which  he  could  hope  to  distinguish 
himself,  he  should  rely  upon  the  constant  society  of  the  ladies 
as  a  consolation ;  which  sentiment  was  warmly  applauded  by 
his  elders,  and  his  brother  encouragingly  remarked,  — 

"  Bravo,  Infant !  Never  did  better  than  that  at  your  age, 
myself." 

So  they  chatted  in  the  "merry  green  wood,"  tne  young 
men  grouped  about  the  wagon  in  which  the  two  ladies  were 
enthroned.  Eloquently  did  the  Blakes  plead  their  cause. 
The  trip  they  proposed  was  to  Mount  Desert,  and  they  prom- 
ised, wind  and  weather  permitting,  to  bring  the  ladies  home 
within  a  week.  Bessie's  reluctance  to  leave  baby  for  such  an 
age  was  overcome  by  Tom,  who  asserted  himself  manfully, 
and  declared  that  the  nurse  was  a  tower  of  strength,  and  that 
the  small  atom  of  humanity  would  thrive  equally  well,  in  the 
healthful  country  air,  whether  its  mamma  presided  each  day 
over  its  sleeve-knots,  or  resigned  that  arduous  toil  for  a  week. 
And  Leigh's  disinclination  to  leave  Gem  quite  yet  was  met 
with  facetious  remarks  from  Tom,  and  importunate  prayers 
from  the  other  young  men. 

"  Where  is  the  boy  ?  Show  him  to  me,"  said  Mr.  Blake. 
"Be  he-alive  or  be  he  dead,  I  '11  take  him  along  with  us,  if 
he  is  the  one  impediment  in  Miss  Doane's  path  to  the 
Idlewild." 

"I  only  wish  you  might  take  him,"  said  Leigh.  "The 
dear  child  would  be  so  happy  to  go;  but  it  would  not  be 
safe.     He  only  sits  up  an  hour  or  two  each  day." 

"  Blake,  as  you  value  your  happiness,  don't  think  of  taking 


ONE     SUMMER.  255 

him.  He  would  be  worse  on  board  than  the  man  who  shot 
the  albatross.  Miss  Doane  makes  a  kind  of  fetich  of  him, 
and  has  imbued  my  wife  with  the  same  idolatrous,  supersti- 
tious folly.  I  have  succeeded  thus  far  in  preserving  that 
sturdy  uprightness  which  my  biographers  will  vie  with  each 
other  in  praising  ;  and  you,  Harry,  I  know,  have  sufficient 
manly  independence  to  be  proof  against  any  of  their  fatuous 
wiles ;  but  Morton,  as  everybody  is  aware,  is  uncommonly 
susceptible,  and  Will  is  over-young,  and  we  might  see  four 
prostrate  forms  on  the  deck  of  the  Idlewild,  bending  in  blind 
adoration  before  that  Holbrook  phenomenon. " 

"  He  's  jealous,  Mr.  Blake,"  said  Leigh.  "Gem  is  a 
charming  child,  and  you  shall  all  see  him,  for  he  is  going  home 
to  make  me  a  visit,  and  I  do  not  think  I  shall  ever  let  him  go 
away  from  me  again." 

"Happy,  thrice-happy  Gem  !"  said  young  Blake.  "But 
do  not  destroy  my  peace  of  mind  by  taking  him  on  the  yacht. 
Miss  Doane  likes  young  people.  At  present  I  am,  at  least, 
the  youngest  of  the  party.  Perhaps  she  will  deign  to  notice 
me.  If  that  Gem  appears,  I  shall  be  nowhere."  And  the 
Infant,  a  long,  lank  youth  of  nineteen,  whose  tall  form  had 
not  had  time  as  yet  to  "fill  out,"  and  whose  face  was  fresh  in 
its  coloring  and  bright  with  good-nature  and  fun,  tried  to  look 
disconsolate,  and  failed  signally.  "  I  may  not  be  a  Gem,  but 
why  may  I  not  be  somebody's  own  sweet  Will  ?  And  won't 
somebody  help  me  with  the  Log  ?  It 's  an  awful  bore  !  Miss 
Leigh,  you  and  I  used  to  be  eood  friends  in  the  mud-pie 
days." 

"I  will  help   you,  you  poor,  abused  boy,"   said  Leigh, 


256  ONE     SUMMER. 

laughing;  "and  if  you  will  be  good  to  Gem  next  winter, — 
for  he  and  I  are  sworn  friends,  you  know,  —  I  will  be  very 
good  to  you  on  the  yacht." 

"  O  heavens  !  Hear  that  demented  girl !  '  Love  me,  love 
my  Gem,'  is  her  one  thought.  I  took  a  peep  at  the  boy  myself, 
to-day,  though  I  do  not  usually  encourage  him  by  so  much  as 
a  glance.  You  should  see  him.  Thin  !  thinner  than  the 
Infant  here,  and  about  a  third  as  long.  Ogden,  who  used  to 
be  a  man  of  sense,  is  gone  daft  on  the  subject,  too,  and  he 
sent  on  somewhere  for  an  easy-chair,  which  is  luxurious  beyond 
description,  and  the  idol  sits  in  it,  with  fruit  and  flowers  and 
other  votive  offerings  all  about,  and  the  Arabian  Nights  mag- 
nificently illustrated,  and  Robinson  Crusoe,  and  a  pile  of  books 
as  high  as  your  head,  on  a  table  that  groans  beneath  their 
weight ;  and  I  think  I  detected  Leigh  burning  incense  the 
other  day.     Is  it  not  pitiable  ?  " 

"  But  where  is  Ogden  ?  Is  he  with  the  wonderful  boy  ? 
Where  shall  I  find  him  ?  " 

"  Where  the  breaking  waves  dash  high  on  the  stern  and 
rock-bound  coast  of  Manhegan." 

"  And  is  he  off  there  ?  I  depended  upon  him.  Frailty, 
thy  name  is  Ogden  !  " 

"  I  'm  glad  of  it !  "  exclaimed  Will,  savagely.  "  There  are 
men  enough  on  the  yacht.  We  've  had  a  surfeit  of  them  ever 
since  Ave  started.  I  can  survive  the  absence  of  Mr.  Ogden, 
and  if  you  want  to  go  off,  Mr.  Morton,  to  '  some  unsuspected 
isle  in  far-off  seas/  I  Tl  try  to  bear  it.  Tom,  you  don't  count, 
because  you  are  married.  It 's  no  matter  about  you."  And 
the  audacious  Infant  smiled  significantly  and  placidly  at 
Leigh. 


ONE     SUMMER.  257 

"  I  'm  like  Miss  Murdstone.  '  Generally  speaking,  I  don't 
like  boys  !  '  "  retorted  Mr.  Morton.  "  This  youth  being  the 
brother  of  my  host,  I  have  thus  far  refrained  from  dropping 
into  Davy  Jones's  locker,  but  there  are  limits  to  my  forbear- 
ance." 

Meanwhile  Tom  and  Mr.  Blake  were  discussing  Philip's 
disappearance,  and  the  probabilities  of  finding  him.  Finally, 
when  all  the  doubts  of  the  ladies  had  been  met  and  silenced, 
and  all  the  arrangements  for  the  trip  perfected,  the  party  went 
on  towards  the  village,  with  young  Blake,  however,  in  the 
wagon  with  the  ladies.  Tom  tramped  along  with  his  friends. 
The  woods  resounded  with  "  Gaudeamus,"  and  milkmaids  in 
distant  farmyards  lifted  their  heads  in  wonder  and  affright  to 
listen  to  the  echoes  awakened  by  the  classic 

"  Hey  clown  deny, 
We  11  drink  and  be  merry, 
In  spite  of  Mahomet's  law." 


CHAPTER    XIX 


:  Till  there  was  none  of  them  but  fain  would  be 
Set  in  the  ship,  nor  cared  one  man  to  stay 
On  the  green  earth  for  one  more  idle  day." 

William  Morris. 
"  For  Shad  well  never  deviates  into  sense." 

Dryden. 

I  PON  the  deck  of  the  Idlewild*  sat  the  Infant 
with  a  ponderous  tome.  Beside  him  were  Leigh 
holding  his  inkstand,  and  Bessie  aiding  the  im- 
portant work  of  writing  the  Log  by  her  sympathy 

and   valuable   suggestions.      Thus  inspired,   the  young  man 

wrote  as  follows  :  — 


*  The  author  would  express  her  indebtedness  to  the  veritable  Log  of  a  verita- 
ble yacht  Idlewild  for  certain  items  which  will  readily  be  recognized  by  persons 
who  have  had  or  may  have  the  good  fortune  of  sailing  in  that  most  charming  of 
crafts,  and  of  being  entertained  by  its  courteous  owners. 

She  will  also  remark,  in  this  connection,  that  while  Edgecomb  bears  a  slight 


ONE     SUMMER.  259 

Thursday,  August  30,  11  a.  m. 

Left  Edgecooib  at  9  1-2  a.  m.  Wind  southwest,  blowing  fresh. 
Barometer  out  of  order.  We  have  on  board,  in  addition  to  persons 
who  have  already  received  in  these  pages  more  honorable  mention 
than  they  deserve,  Mr.  Tom  Otis,  Mrs.  Otis,  and  Miss  L.  L.  Doane. 

Mr.  Tom  Otis  is  the  hero  of  twenty-nine  pitched  battles.  His 
bones  are  whitening  on  a  dozen  tented  plains,  and  the  blood  he 
has  shed  is  of  the  best  of  Virginia.  Jovial,  witty,  and  of  a  large 
and  varied  experience,  the  party  is  anticipating  a  vast  amount  of 
entertainment  from  him  as  soon  as  he  recovers  from  the  sea-sick- 
ness which  he  is  momentarily  expecting. 

Mrs.  Otis  and  Miss  Doane  being  at  the  present  moment  seated 
on  deck  with  the  historiographer  of  this  cruise,  and  looking  over 
his  shoulder  as  he  writes,  he  naturally  feels  the  blush  of  ingenuous 
youth  mounting  to  his  brow,  and  shrinks  from  the  presumption  of 
reducing  to  cold,  dull  words  the  sentiments  which  their  dazzling 
beauty  and  indescribable  charm  of  manner  produce  in  his  mind. 
Not  wielding  the  pen  of  a  Jenkins,  he  does  not  know  how  to 
describe  their  costumes.  He  can,  however,  testify  that  he  has  just 
seen  Mrs.  Otis  take  from  her  travelling-bag  a  small  cube  of  some 
mysterious  white  substance.  The  historiographer  in  trepidation 
ventured  to  inquire  its  name  and  use.  The  reply  was,  "Why, 
child,  it  's  only  magnesia.  We  expect  to  see  friends  at  Mount 
Desert,  and  we  have  not  the  faintest  idea  of  looking  like  frights  if 
we  can  help  it."  Whereupon  these  lovely  ladies  calmly  cover  their 
fair  faces  with  a  chalky  mask,  bestowing  a  double  amount  of  care 
upon  the  tips  of  their  delicate  noses,  where,  they  remark,  "  sunburn 

resemblance  to  a  pleasant  old  town  in  Maine  in  respect  of  its  scenery,  there  the 
resemblance  ceases.  She  therefore  begs  not  to  be  accused  of  libel,  and  pleads 
with  Sairey  Gamp, 

■  Which  naming  no  names,  no  offence  could  he  took."' 


260  ONE     SUMMER. 

is  so  extremely  unbecoming."     The  historiographer,  lost  in  won- 
der, awaits  further  revelations  from  these  marvellous  beings. 

2  P.  M. 

The  day  is  delightful.  Passed  the  Narrows  at  11.45,  the 
Ledges  at  12.10,  and  the  Indian  at  12.30.  Saluted  him,  and 
dipped  our  colors,  the  pilot  informing  us  it  is  customary  to  do  the 
venerable  old  fellow  that  honor.  His  outlines  in  the  rock  are  faint 
and  shadowy.  He  looks  forlorn,  and  as  if  lie  had  better  depart  at 
once  for  the  land  of  the  setting  sun  in  search  of  his  brethren. 
Without  wishing  to  destroy  illusions  cherished  by  persons  who  go 
down  to  the  sea  in  ships,  sailing  upon  this  beautiful  river,  and  who 
fondly  believe  in  the  Indian,  we,  Miss  Doane  and  the  Infant,  do  not 
hesitate  to  affirm,  that  we  can  discover  very  little  Indian  indeed  in 
the  ledge  where  his  historic  form  is  supposed  to  be  imbedded  ;  fur- 
thermore, we  boldly  state  that  the  eye  of  faith  is  required  to  see 
any  Indian  at  all ;  that  he  might  as  well  be  called  the  cat,  or  the 
goose,  or  the  porcupine;  that  we  have  no  respect  for  him  what- 
ever; and  if  the  owner  of  the  yacht  persists  in  giving  him  a  salute 
on  our  return,  we  shall  manifest  our  disapproval  by  standing  in 
silent  dignity,  with  our  backs  turned  to  that  aboriginal  object,  and 
our  eyes  fastened  upon  the  opposite  shore. 

Not  wishing  to  lose  a  moment  of  this  glorious  air  and  scenery, 
we  lunched  at  1.30,  on   deck. 

Made  Hendrick's  Head  Light  at  2.30,  and  anchored  in  Cape 
Newaggen  Harbor  at  3.45.  Tried  fishing  for  a  while  before  din- 
ner, which  was  served  at  5  P.  M.  Sun  shining  clearly;  air  warm. 
Whole  party  a  little  fatigued  with  hauling  up  their  lines  to  look  at 
the  bait. 

The  sceue  on  deck  during  the  evening  was  picturesque  in  the 
extreme.     The  ladies,  half  reclining  upon  huge  piles  of  cushions, 


ONE     SUMMER.  26l 

fell  into  a  dangerously  sentimental  mood.  They  dreamily  remarked 
upon  the  beauty  of  the  quiet  little  harbor,  and  the  pretty  outline  of 
the  shore.     They  were  heard  to  express  a  fervent  desire  to 

"  Eat  the  lotus  of  the  Xilc, 
And  drink  the  poppies  of  Cathay." 

Mr.  Otis  informed  them  that  there  was  not  a  lotus  or  a  poppy  on 
board,  and  appealed  to  Blake,  Senior,  for  eorroboration,  which  was 
heartily  given,  —  the  latter  gentleman  remarking  he  would  have 
ordered  some  down  with  the  last  supplies,  if  he  'd  known  the  ladies 
would  wish  that  sort  of  thing.  He  volunteered  to  send  the  steward 
in  the  small  boat  to  the  nearest  place  on  the  coast  where  there  was 
a  druggist,  for  some  morphine,  which  did  not  sound  as  euphonious 
as  "the  poppies  of  Cathay,"  but  he  presumed  it  would  answer  the 
same  purpose.  The  ladies  objected  to  the  flippant  style  of  conver- 
sation in  which  these  two  world-hardened  men  indulged,  and 
begged  them  to  drink  in  the  quiet  loveliness  of  the  night,  or  at 
least  to  assume  a  virtue,  if  they  had  it  not,  and  be  silent ;  and  soon 
nothing  was  heard  but  the  occasional  breaking  of  the  waves  on  the 
great  rocks  that  lined  the  harbor's  entrance. 

Inspired  by  the  perfections  of  the  night  and  the  beautiful  Miss 
Doane,  challenged  by  that  wretched  pair,  Otis  and  Blake,  Senior, 
and  strongly  urged  to  prove  his  powers  by  the  ladies  and  the  In- 
fant, Mr.  Richard  Morton  distinguished  himself  by  the  following 

"IMPROMPTU. 

"0  the  sea,  the  beautiful  sea  ! 
The  earth  and  the  sky  are  as  nothing  to  me. 
Only  the  rise  and  the  fall  of  the  tide 
Seem  fittest  to  speak  of  with  thee  by  my  side. 
For  when  thou  dost  smile,  my  hope  like  the  flow 
Of  the  inrominir  tide  ever  onward  doth  go  ; 


262  ONE     SUMMER. 

But  when  for  the  smile  you  give  me  a  frown, 
Like  the  outgoing  tide  my  hope  floweth  down. 
Then  smile,  and  not  frown,  and  close  by  my  side 
Let 's  float  on  the  waves  of  the  inflowing  tide." 

The  historiographer  does  not  know  whether  this  is  or  is  not  a 
very  superior  article,  but  inserts  it  in  the  Log-  to  help  till  up,  and 
because  it  is  the  best  thing-  of  the  sort  that  can  be  produced  at 
present  upon  the  Idlewild,  no  man  on  board  but  Morton  knowing- 
how  to  mount  any  kind  of  a  Pegasus.  The  historiographer  pri- 
vately suspects  that  Mr.  Morton's  'winged  steed'  can't  fly,  and 
that   he  is  a  gaunt,  raw-boned  nag, — a  sort  of  Rosinante. 

The  impromptu  was  received  with  great  favor  by  the  ladies,  who 
declared  that  the  beauty  of  it  was,  that  Mr.  Morton  did  not  mean  a 
word  he  said ;  in  return  they  recited  some  charming  poems.  The 
writer  of  this  chronicle,  though  young  and  inexperienced,  as  has 
been  previously  remarked,  could  but  observe  the  striking  earnest- 
ness with  which  Miss  Laura  Leigh  Poanc  repeated,  "Tides,"  a 
very  tender  and  sweet  love-poem  by  "  H.  H."  ;  and  the  intense 
feeling  which  she  threw  into  the  closing  words,  "Love  has  a  tide!  " 
almost  made  the  innocent  youth's  hair  stand  on  end  with  amaze- 
ment. He  happens  to  know  that  Miss  Doaue  has  been  making  the 
journey  of  life  but  two  short  months  longer  than  himself,  and  he 
wonders  how  it  is  that  she  seems  to  have  gotten  such  leagues  in 
advance.  He  was  about  to  propound  this  question  in  all  sincerity, 
when  a  voice  disturbed  the  hush  that  followed  the  poem. 

"  Leigh,  that  was  very  touching,  very  touching  indeed.  Harry 
and  I  wept  to  hear  you  go  on  in  that  style,  but  you  were  looking 
in  exactly  the  wrong  direction.     Manhegan  is  over  this  way." 

The  meaning  of  which  pleasantry,  though  half  hidden,  Morton 
and  the  historiographer  dimly  guess  at,  and  long  to  sink  the 
wretched  isle  and  all  whom  it  shelters  beneath  the  waves  of  the 
Atlantic. 


ONE     SUMMER.  263 

[t  is  the  painful  duty  of  the  Infant,  as  an  honest  chronicler  of 
t lii s  cruise,  to  stale  that  his  brother,  to  whom  he  was  wont  to  look 
for  admonition,  counsel,  and  example,  and  Mr.  Tom  Otis,  a  man 
for  whom  he  has  ever  cherished  the  most  profound  veneration,  did 
unite,  deliberately,  wickedly,  and  maliciously,  to  destroy  the  gla- 
mour of  poetry  and  sentiment  which  all  things  else  conspired  to 
throw  over  the  minds  of  the  other  members  of  the  party.  Morton 
and  the  historiographer  were  prepared  to  follow  blindly  where  the 
ladies  would  lead,  and  they,  though  perfectly  aware  that  they  were 
safely  anchored  in  the  snug  little  harbor  of  Cape  Newaggen,  did 
not  hesitate,  as  they  listened  to  the  ripple  of  the  water  against  the 
yacht,  to  give  utterance  to  vague  and  delicious  fancies  about  "  drift- 
ing along  with  the  stream,"  and  gondolas,  and  Venice,  and  "  the 
magic  of  the  sea";  and  they  recited  many  poems,  and  sung  sweet 
songs  in  a  way  that  was  bewitching  in  the  extreme  to  their  two 
devoted  slaves,  but  which  led  to  deplorable  results.  The  histori- 
ographer blushes  to  recall  the  scene  that  followed,  and  the  heartless 
Vandalism  of  Messrs,  Otis  and  Blake.  They  retired  to  the  bow 
and  held  a  whispered  consultation,  then  returned,  and  Mr.  Otis  in 
a  grave  and  dignified  manner  remarked  that  he  was  aware  that  they 
had  not  seemed  entirely  in  sympathy  with  their  surroundings,  or 
with  the  refined  and  elevated  sentiments  of  the  rest  of  the  party; 
that  it  was  not,  however,  always  best  to  judge  from  appearances ; 
that  their  hearts  were  in  reality  profoundly  moved,  and  in  evidence 
of  their  sincerity  they  would  beg  to  be  allowed  to  contribute  to  the 
general  happiness  by  reciting  some  poetry. 

Here  Mr.  Blake  remarked  that  he  and  Mr.  Otis  had  most  care- 
fully observed  the  character  of  the  poems  quoted  by  the  ladies,  by 
their  gifted  friend  Morton,  and  by  the  young  and  promising  Infant, 
and  that  they  would  not  presume  to  introduce  any  inharmonious 
subjects.     They  would  only  venture  to  repeat  lines  relating  to  the 


264  ONE     SUMMER. 

fathomless  sea,  or  suggestive  of  longings  after  the  unattainable,  the 
might-have-been,  the  nevermore. 

Whereupon  he  formally  stated  that  he  now  had  the  honor  of  pre- 
senting to  the  intelligent  audience  before  him  the  popular  reader 
and  elocutionist,  Mr.  Tom  Otis. 

Mr.  Otis  gracefully  bowed,  and  remarked  that  the  title  of  the 
poem  he  was  about  to  recite  being  sunk  in  oblivion,  he  would  ven- 
ture to  call  it,  for  reasons  that  no  doubt  a  part  of  his  audience 
would  fully  appreciate, 

"A  LEGEND  OF  MANHEGAN." 

In  a  voice  and  manner  that  beggar  description  he  began  as  fol- 
lows :  — 

"  Poor  Jonathan  Snow 
Away  did  go, 
All  011  the  ragin'  mane, 
With  other  males, 
For  to  ketch  whales, 
An'  ne'er  come  back  agane. 

"  The  winds  bloo  hi, 
The  billers  tost, 
All  hands  was  lost ; 
An'  he  was  one, 
A  spritely  lad 
Ni  twenty-one." 

Mr.  Blake,  when  the  excitement  produced  by  his  friend's  recita- 
tion had  died  away,  stated  that  it  would  be  impossible  to  equal  the 
pure  pathos  and  graphic  description  of  the  fury  of  the  elements, 
which  he  observed  had  electrified  the  listeners  in  the  choice  of  Mr. 
Otis.  Jonathan  was  a  unique  production,  and  stood  alone  upon 
the  heights  of  literature.  [Cries  of  Hear  !  Hear  !  from  Mr.  Otis, 
and  groans  from  the  ladies.]     But  the  great  heart  of  humanity  can 


ONE     SUMMER.  265 

be  touched  in  many  ways.  From  the  tender  Folk  Songs  of  a  sim- 
ple people,  he  would  select  some  verses  by  an  unknown  poet,  — 
verses  which  contrasted  strongly  with  the  inspired  vigor  of  the  im- 
mortal Jonathan,  but  which  in  calm  simplicity  of  diction,  sweet 
regret,  and  patient  sadness  of  theme  were  also  unequalled. 

"A  DREAM. 

"  I  had  a  dream  ; 
I  dreamed  I  was  alone, 
Alone ! 
And  oh  !  it  was  so  sad 
Away  from  home, 

From  home ! 

"  Upon  the  sand 
My  eyes  I  bent, 

I  bent ! 
Upon  my  hand 
My  head  I  leant, 

I  leant ! 

"  I  thought  of  days 
Gone  by  and  things, 

And  things! 
And  simple 
Childish  joys  and  strings, 

And  strings !  " 

The  ladies  rose  in  disgust,  and  went  below,  declaring  that  men 
who  ruin  even  the  moonlight  by  such  "  horrid  hideous  notes  of 
woe"  ought  to  have  weights  and  "things,  and  things,"  tied  to 
their  necks,  and  be  dropped  into  the  sea. 

It  is  suspected  that  the  effect  produced  by  these  two  designing 
villains  was  precisely  what  they  had  planned,  the  hour  being  12 
p.  M.,  at  which  time  dull,  prosaic  souls  are  apt  to  get  sleepy.  So 
ended  the  memorable  evening  at  Cape  Newaggen. 


CHAPTER    XX. 

"End  things  must,  end  howsoe'er  things  may." 

Browning. 

Friday,  August  31. 

lEAUTIFUL   weather.      Left    Cape   Newaggen    at    9 

a.  M.,   and  went  out  to  a  fishing-ground  for  cod. 

The  ladies  appeared  fresh   and   bright  at  breakfast, 

and   Mrs.  Otis  enlivened  the  party  by  making  the 

astounding   discovery    that    we    have    on    board  the 

world-renowned,  graceless  trio,  Tom,  Dick,  and  Harry,  associating 

intimately  with  an  "  L.  L.  D." 

11   A.  If. 

Morton  has  just  caught  a  forty-five-pound  cod,  and  is  in  a  glo- 
riously exultant  state.  He  suggests  that  we  unite  in  singing,  as  a 
morning  hymn,  the  exquisite  lines  of  Watts,  — 

"  Up  from  the  deep 
Ye  codlins,  creep, 
And  wag  your  tails  about." 

Passed  Manhegan  at  12  M.  White  Head  at  2.05  p.  m.,  and 
anchored  in  Owl's  Head  Harbor  at  3.30  p.  m.,  having  had  fine 
weather  and  a  most  agreeable  sail.  Off  Manhegan  an  animated 
discussion  was  held.     Mr.  Philip  Ogden  —  who,  as  he  might  have 


ONE    SUMMER. 


267 


been  on  the  Idlewild,  and  is  not,  is  supposed  to  be  laboring  under 

a  temporary  aberration    of    mind,  wandering    about    among  the 

benighted  peasantry  of  that  island  —  was  the  subject  of 

the  debate.     The  question  was  finally   voted  upon 

Shall  the  Idlewild  put    into    Manhegan, 

shall  its  dauntless  crew  seize  the  recreant  Og- 

den  vi  et  armis? 

Ayes,  —  Otis  and  Blake, 
Senior. 

Noes 
(loud  and 
deep),  — 
the  ladies. 
Morton, 
and  Blake, 
Junior. 

The  Noes 
were  tri- 
umphant, 
and  Manhe- 
gan Light 
left  in  the 
distance. 

During 
the  after- 
noon of 
this  day, 
fired  by  an 
unholy  de- 
sire to  wage 
war  upon  the  finny  denizens  of  the  deep,  and  too  finical  to  re- 


268  ONE     SUMMER. 

move  the  article  from  his  finger,  to  which  it  had  an  affinity,  Mr. 
Tom  Otis,  in  detaching  a  sculpin  —  a  fish  to  which  he  was  exceed- 
ingly partial  —  from  his  hook,  threw  into  the  raging  sea  a  ring  of 
considerable  intrinsic  and  incalculable  sentimental  value.  For  fur- 
ther particulars  inquire  of  Mrs.  Otis. 

He  desires  it  to  be  distinctly  understood,  that  he  did  not  thereby 
Aved  the  billows  of  Owl's  Head  Harbor.  They  were  not  the  Adri- 
atic, and  he  was  not  a  Dog[e]  that  he  should  do  this  thing.  It  is 
suggested  that,  backed  by  the  authority  of  the  Arabian  Nights,  he- 
shall  offer  a  vast  reward  for  the  ring,  and  publicly  give  notice  that 
all  cooks,  stewards,  and  seafaring  men  shall  hereafter  exercise  the 
utmost  care  in  cleansing  fish,  lest  they  lose  the  opportunity  of 
finding  that  one  which  wears  iioav  a  precious  jewel  in  his  head. 

Coming  up  on  deck  after  dinner,  a  sudden  silence  fell  upon  our 
merry  party,  even  Otis  and  Blake,  Senior,  being  subdued  by  the 
magnificence  of  the  sunset. 

The  Camden  Hills  to  the  northwest,  Ragged  Mountain  and 
Megunticook,  cold  and  in  shadow,  stood  out  in  bold  contrast 
against  the  brilliant,  warm  sky.  Silently  we  watched  the  golden 
glory  deepen,  and  the  wonderful  rosy  light  that  followed,  and  shone 
on  the  gleaming  white  sails  of  twenty  or  thirty  little  coasters  lying 
at  anchor  around  us,  and  that  crept  higher  and  higher,  until  its 
radiance  was  reflected  in  the  water  below,  and  the  whole  landscape 
was  glorified.  The  last  rays  fell  upon  the  bluff  on  which  the  light- 
house stands,  and  while  the  after-glow  still  lingered  with  its  fiery 
opal  hues  gradually  fading  away  in  deep  violet  clouds,  we  took 
a  short  sail  out  of  the  harbor,  passing  between  numerous  little 
rocky  islands  and  reefs,  gray-looking  and  cold,  with  the  foam 
rising  high  around  them,  and  miles  in  the  distance  was  a  huge  fog- 
bank  which  seemed  to  be  rolling  in  finely,  but  which  did  not  once 
overtake  us, 


ONE     SUMMER.  269 

Saturday,  September  1. 

From  Owl's  Head  to  Eggemoggin  Eeacli.  Under  weigh  at 
7  a.  M.,  having  secured  the  services  of  a  new  pilot,  an  ancient 
mariner  remarkable  for  his  misfortunes  by  sea  and  by  land.  Ac- 
cording to  his  own  account,  he  had  been  wrecked  on  nearly  every 
rock,  cape,  island,  and  sand-bar  from  Cape  Sable  to  the  Florida 
Keys,  and  he  certainly  ought  to  know  all  the  perils  of  our  cruise. 
While  sailing  slowly  up  Penobscot  Bay,  with  light  breezes  and  fine 
weather,  this  old  Jonah  entertained  us  with  an  account  of  his  expe- 
rience in  the  law.  He  seems  to  have  been  always  at  law,  and  in 
fact  had  a  case  coming  on  when  he  joined  us,  and  was  in  a  contin- 
ual fright  lest  he  should  not  be  at  home  in  season  for  it.  As  he 
always  got  ashore  in  his  voyages,  so  he  was  always  swindled  in  his 
bargains,  and  seems  usually  to  have  gotten  the  worst  of  his  law- 
suits. The  effect  upon  his  mind  was  unfortunate.  He  enter- 
tained a  special  dislike  for  the  legal  profession,  besides  being  gen- 
erally misanthropic.  His  anathemas  against  lawyers  met  with  the 
strongest  encouragement  and  sympathy  from  those  brethren  in 
the  law,  and  in  all  manner  of  mischief,  Messrs.  Otis  and  Blake, 
Senior. 

Under  his  guidance  Ave  were  lazily  wafted  up  Penobscot  Bay, 
with  light  northerly  winds.  Sailed  through  the  Thoroughfare,  and 
saw  the  great  white  dome  of  the  Isle  au  Haut,  eight  or  ten  miles  to 
the  southeast  as  we  came  up  by  North  Haven  towards  Eagle  Island 
Light,  which,  by  the  way,  had  the  honor  of  gaining  expressions  of 
unqualified  admiration  from  Miss  Hoane,  and  it  will  probably,  on 
that  account,  hold  its  haughty  head  higher  than  ever  above  the 
waves. 

A  number  of  the  islands  were  extremely  pretty,  as  we  sailed  up 
the  bay.  We  made  Pumpkin  Island  Light  at  about  half  an  hour 
before  sunset,  and    anchored   close  under  Little  Deer  Island,   in 


270  ONE     SUMMER. 

Eggemoggin  Eeach.  Miss  Doane  takes  exceptions  to  the  name  of 
Pumpkin  Island.  Mrs.  Otis  also  denounces  it  bitterly.  They  say 
that  all  the  names  have  been  pretty,  Newaggen,  Manhegan,  Owl's 
Head,  and  Isle  an  Haut,  and  they  also  graciously  approve  of  even 
Eggenioggin,  Indian  names,  however  unpronounceable,  being  always 
charming;  but  no  words  can  express  their  contempt  and  loathing 
for  poor  Pumpkin  Island.  Mr.  Otis  remarked  that  he  presumed 
Asphodel  Lighthouse  or  Fringed  Gentian  Islet  would  be  more 
likely  to  find  favor  with  the  sickly,  morbid  fancy  of  certain  per- 
sons he  could  mention,  but  that  for  his  part  he  admired  Pump- 
kin Island  hugely.  It  was  a  good  substantia],  sensible,  honest 
name,  and  patriotic,  moreover,  as  it  commemorated  the  national 
dish  of  New  England,  —  pumpkin-pie,  —  and  he  wished  he  had 
some. 

The  Infant  records  this  speech,  not  because  he  regards  it  as  in 
the  least  amusing  or  instructive,  but  merely  as  an  illustration  of 
the  heartless,  he  might  say  sinister  style  of  comment  in  which  Mr. 
Otis  and  Mr.  Harry  Blake  have  taken  incredible  delight  during  the 

whole  voyage. 

Sunday,  September  2. 

Passed  a  quiet  day  at  anchor  here,  not  because  we  were  afraid  we 
would  be  drowned  and  made  into  a  tract  to  frighten  small  boys 
if  we  should  continue  our  course  on  Sunday,  but  because  the 
ladies  say  the  Eeach  is  too  lovely  to  leave.  It  is  like  a  great,  calm, 
broad  river,  and  the  mainland  opposite  us  has  a  well-cultivated 
look,  and  the  soft  green  of  the  turf  and  foliage  is  pleasant  to  look 
upon. 

Those  ungodly  men,  Otis  and  Blake,  Senior,  took  the  small  boat 
and  went  off  to  the  ledge  with  guns.  They  returned  with  three 
coots,  and  were  not  recognized  by  the  respectable  members  of 
the  party.  We  sent  them  to  Coventry  for  the  remainder  of  the 
day. 


ONE     SUMMER.  271 

Monday,  September  3. 
Know  all  men  by  these  presents,  that  I,  being  duly  sworn,  do 
testify,  that,  in  the  judgment  of  the  whole  company  on  board  the 
[dlewild,  Monday,  the  third  day  of  September,  18 — ,  Mr.  Tom 
Otis  did  then  and  there  eat,  beside  the  regular  courses,  at  dinner, 
of  soup,  meats,  and  vegetables,  — 

Fifteen  olives, 

One  box  of  sardines, 
Eight  sandwiches, 

Two  cocoanut-pies, 

Five  loaves  of  cake, 

A  bottle  of  chow-chow,  and 
Seven  cups  of  coffee  ; 

and  for  so  doing  was  awarded  the  first  prize,  having  distanced  all 
competitors. 

(Signed)  Charles  William  Blake. 

Witnesses  :  — 

Bessie  D.  Otis. 
Laura  Leigh  Doane. 
Richard  Henry  Morton. 

Blake,  Senior,  being  host,  feels  that  courtesy  forbids  him  to 
testify. 

Passed  out  of  Eggemog-gin  Reach,  the  fertile  look  of  the  country 
vanishing,  and  the  bleak,  wild,  out-at-sea  aspect  increasing  more  and 
more  as  we  left  the  large  Deer  Isle  and  sailed  among  numerous 
white,  letlgy  islands,  and  soon  approached  the  promontory  of  Bass 
Head,  the  southern  point  of  Mount  Desert.  We  sailed  past  it,  into 
Southwest  Harbor  for  the  superb  view,  and  saw  the  Mount  Desert 


272  ONE     SUMMER. 

hills  rising  grandly  before  us,  while  Some's  Sound,  that  wonder- 
fully pretty  sheet  of  water,  its  calm  clear  blue  contrasting  with  the 
"tumultuous  sea'"  outside,  —  "the  rough  green  plain  that  no  man 
reaps,"  —  ran,  straight  and  narrow,  far  into  the  island  between 
bold,  high  cliffs,  like  a  Norwegian  fiord,  we  who  have  never  seen  a 
fiord  confidently  assert. 

Passed  between  the  Cranberry  Islands  and  Bear  Island  Light. 

Made  Bar  Harbor  at  5  p.  M.,  and  were  speedily  visited  by  troops 
of  friends.  The  historiographer  would  gracefully  excuse  himself 
from  a  description  of  the  magnificent  scenery  of  Mount  Desert. 
For  information  which  he  has  the  discretion  to  omit,  he  would 
refer  future  perusers  of  this  Log  to  artists  known  to  fame  and 
many  authors  of  repute. 

He  is  aware  that  he  has  omitted  to  mention  various  points  of 
interest  along  this  attractive  Maine  coast,  and  he  would  say,  in 
apology,  that  but  nineteen  summers  have  passed  over  his  head,  and 
that  he  has  been  too  much  interested  in  playing  piquet  with  Miss 
Doane,  to  tear  himself  away  from  that  charming  amusement  and 
devote  himself  to  the  dreary  labor  of  making  nautical  and  geo- 
graphical observations. 

The  voyage  has  been  all  sunshine  and  gladness. 

We  did  not  design  to  exhibit  the  swiftness  of  our  craft,  as  the 
sailing  powers  of  the  Idlewild  have  long  since  been  proven,  but 
have  wished  merely  to  sail  here  and  there  at  the  will  of  our  fair 
passengers.  That  our  return  voyage  may  be  as  happy,  is  our  devout 
hope. 

In  conclusion,  it  may  be  well  to  mention  that  there  has  been  an 
entire  immunity  from  sea-sickness,  although  Mr.  Richard  Morton 
dined  one  day  upon  deck,  making  an  entire  repast  upon  one 
lemon. 

The  Idlewild  party  is  now  strolling  about  on  the  rocks  in  a  state 


ONE     SUMMER.  273 

of  perfect  bliss,  all  except  the  poor  historiographer,  whom  an  inhu- 
man brother  has  left  behind  to  complete  the  Log,  and  do  the 
honors  of  the  yacht  to  such  visitors  as  may  appear. 

The  Idlewild  people  were  received  with  great  rejoicing  by 
numerous  friends  at  Bar  Harbor,  and  it  occurred  to  one  hos- 
pitable soul  to  give  a  picnic  of  gigantic  proportions  in  their 
honor.  The  guests,  sixty  in  number,  were  bidden  to  the  feast 
at  seven  o'clock,  and  shortly  after  that  hour  the  bluff  over 
Anemone  Cave  was  the  scene  of  much  hilarity,  as  gay  groups 
of  friends  ate  sandwiches,  drank  coffee,  and  gossiped,  with  the 
grand  old  ocean  rolling  in  solemnly  below  them. 

"  Leigh,"  whispered  Tom,  "  don't  drop  your  muffin  on  the 
buttered  side,  or  pour  your  coffee  down  your  sleeve  in  your 
agitation,  but  Ogden  came  over  to  Southwest  Harbor  yester- 
day, and  he  arrived  here  to-day,  and  he  's  about  five  feet  off, 
just  behind  you,  and  he  's  coming  this  way  as  fast  as  he  can, 
but  somebody  —  an  uncommonly  attractive  young  lady,  by  the 
way  —  has  just  buttonholed  him.  I  did  not  tell  you  all  at 
once,  for  fear  you  could  not  bear  it." 

In  a  moment  Philip  approached,  and  saw  Leigh's 

"  Sweet  face  in  the  sunset  light 
Upraised  and  glorified." 

And  though  the  "  madding  crowd  "  was  there,  and  the  sense- 
less chatter,  and  the  commonplace  bread  and  butter  and 
pickles,  the  inexpressible  gladness  in  her  eyes,  as  she  turned 
and  looked  up  at  him,  told  him  that  his  brief  absence  had  been 
a  sagacious  thing,  and  that  the  pearl  was  his  own.  He  won- 
dered if  the  voluble  young  lady  on  the  other  side  of  him  ever 
would  cease  urging  him  to  partake  of  the  salad  over  which  she 


2/4  ONE     SUMMER. 

presided,  and  if  picnics  at  Bar  Harbor  went  on  forever.     The 
two  talked  nonsense  with  the  others,  and  ate  they  knew  not 

what. 

At  last  the  darkness  deepened.  The  moon  rose  superbly 
over  the  sea,  and  everybody  climbed  down  the  rocks  to  the 
shore  to  see  what  wonders  were  going  on  in  the  Cave. 

Into  its  mysterious  depths  two  gentlemen  had  vanished. 
Presently  its  recesses  were  illumined  by  a  gleaming  red  light 
which  disclosed  its  little  shining  pools  of  water,  and  its  rough 
jagged  sides,  and  shone  out  upon  the  groups  of  ladies  and 
attendant  cavaliers  at  different  heights  on  the  cliff,  and  met 
the  moonlight  far  out  on  the  Avaves  with  a  singular  effect. 
A  yellow  light  followed,  and  a  ghastly  green,  and  then  these 
wizards  of  Anemone  Cave  sent  off  some  rockets,  and  various 
other  whizzing  things. 

"  I  do  feel  really  disappointed,"  exclaimed  Bessie.  "  I  al- 
ways had  a  profound  respect  for  a  rocket.  I  thought  it  quite 
a  magnificent  spectacle ;  but  does  n't  it  seem  small,  and  mean, 
and  insignificant,  and  frightfully  impertinent,  for  it  to  go  buzz- 
ing away  at  the  old  ocean?  "  Receiving  no  reply  from  Philip 
and  Leigh,  to  whom  her  remark  was  addressed,  the  kindly 
disposed  little  Avoman  went  on,  "  O  dear,  dear !  I  actually  be- 
lieve there  is  my  Tom  flirting  with  Miss  McArthur.  She  's 
entirely  too  pretty,  and  she  knows  how !  Where  is  Mr. 
Morton?  0  Mr.  Morton,  would  you  be  so  kind  as  to 
take  me  round  to  the  other  side  of  the  cliff?  There 's 
something  going  on  there  which  I  must  put  a  stop  to  at 
once.  Would  you  believe  it?  that  incorrigible  husband  of 
mine  —  " 


ONE     SUMMER.  275 

She  vanished,  and  Leigh  and  Philip  wandered  away  over 
the  rocks. 

An  hour  later  they  sat  together,  caring  little  for  the  vast 
cliffs  towering  above  them,  or  for  the  foaming  surf  at  their 
feet.  They  saw  but  the  gladness  in  each  other's  eyes.  Their 
own  murmurs  spoke  a  mightier  language  in  their  ears  than 
the  voice  of  the  great  waves.  Yet  they  sought  in  vain  to 
express  the  meaning  that  overcharged  their  hearts,  for 

"  Love's  tenderest,  truest  secret  lingers, 
Ever  in  its  depths  untold," 

and  its  sweetest  words  are  only 

"Like  sighings  of  illimitable  forests, 
And  waves  of  an  unfathomable  sea." 


"  And  are  you  glad  to  see  me,  dear?  And  are  you  quite 
'  sure  of  yourself ''  now  ?     And  is  it  like  your  '  theories  '  ?  " 

"  I  was  very,  very  glad,  but  I  think  you  took  an  unfair 
advantage  in  surprising  me,  and  some  day  I  will  have  my 
revenge." 

"  And  will  you  go  out  on  the  prairies  and  live  in  a  log- 
cabin  with  me,  if  ever  I  ask  you  ?     Will  you,  Leigh  ?  " 

"  No,  sir,  never,  if  you  persist  in  remembering  all  the  idle 
words  I  ever  said,  and  wickedly  repeating  them  to  me." 

"  But  would  you,  Leigh  ?  "  he  persisted. 

"  I  am  really  disappointed  in  you  already.  I  never  dreamed 
you  would  develop  into  a  tease  like  Tom.  Do  you  know,  I  've 
read  that  success  ruins  some  natures  ?  " 


2?6  ONE     SUMMER. 

"But  would  you?" 

She  hesitated ;  then,  "  I  will  go  to  the  very  end  of  the 
world  with  you  one  day  if  you  should  wish,"  she  said  in  low, 
earnest  tones.  "  Why  do  you  make  me  tell  you?  You  know 
so  well." 

"  Forgive  me,  Leigh ;  it  is  so  sweet  to  hear  you  say  it,  how 
could  I  help  asking  ?  But,  dear,  if  ever  I  ask  you  to  live  in 
a  log-cabin,  it  shall  be  only  for  a  couple  of  months  in  the 
summer.  And  the  cabin  shall  be  as  pretty  as  you  please,  and 
it  must  be  at  Edgecomb  somewhere.  How  would  our  island 
do,  just  where  the  old  fort  is?" 

"  And  it  must  be  called  'The  Gem,'  "  said  Leigh,  amused. 
Then,  realizing  that  this  was  indeed  giving  to  remote  shadowy 
things  a  "  local  habitation  and  a  name,"  she  sprung  up  with 
a  sweet  shyness  in  her  face. 

"  Shall  we  not  find  Bessie  now  ?  " 

Suddenly  she  stepped  back  to  Philip.  The  moon  shone 
gloriously  on  the  water,  and  threw  its  white  radiance  over  the 
girl  as  she  said  impulsively,  — 

"  Please  sit  down,  just  where  you  were.  There  is  some- 
thing I  must  do.  Close  your  eyes,"  she  commanded.  Philip 
obeyed.  Half  tenderly,  half  laughingly,  she  murmured,  "This 
is  reparation."  And  he  felt  the  light,  timid  touch  of  her  lips 
on  either  closed  eyelid.  "  I  am  so  sorry,  —  I  was  so  sorry 
then,  —  I  have  been  sorry  all  the  time,"  she  murmured. 
"  How  cruel  I  was  !  " 

And  Philip,  with  his  great  happiness  sounding  in  his  voice, 
yet  with  the  same  lightness  of  manner  which  Leigh  had  as- 
sumed, to  cover  a  strange  depth  of  emotion,  said,  — 


ONE     SUMMER. 


279 


"  That  memorable  blow  did  close  my  eyes  for  a  time,  it  is 
true,  but  only  to  open  them  to  new  and  wonderful  radiance. 
My  whole  life  shall  show  you  my  gratitude  for  it.  Think  to 
what  honor  it  has  raised  me.  My  darling,  my  queen,  it  was 
my  royal  accolade.'" 


UloxK$  of  fiction 

PUBLISHED    BY 

HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN    AND    COMPANY, 
4  Park  St.,  Boston  ;  ii  E.  17TH  St.,  New  York. 


Thomas  Bailey  Aldrich. 

Story  of  a  Bad  Boy.     Illustrated.     i2mo $1.50 

Marjorie  Daw  and  Other  People.     i2mo 1.50 

The  Same.     Riverside  Aldine  Series.     1 61110      .     .     .  1.00 

Prudence  Palfrey.     1 21110 I-5° 

The  Queen  of  Sheba.     i2mo 1-5° 

The  Stillwater  Tragedy.     i2mo •     •  i-5° 

Novels  and  Poems.  New  Uniform  Edition.  Com- 
prising Marjorie  Daw,  Prudence  Palfrey,  The  Queen 
of  Sheba,  The  Stillwater  Tragedy,  The  Story  of  a 
Bad  Boy,  and  Poems.      [Household Edition.)     The 

set,  six  volumes,  i2mo 900 

Hans  Christian  Andersen. 

Complete  Works.     In  ten  uniform  volumes,  crown  8vo. 
A  new  and  cheap  Edition,  in  attractive  binding. 

The  Improvisatore  ;  or,  Life  in  Italy 1.00 

The  Two  Baronesses I-00 

O.  T. ;  or,  Life  in  Denmark i-°o 

Only  a  Fiddler I-00 

In  Spain  and  Portugal x-00 

A  Poet's  Bazaar l-°° 

Pictures  of  Travel I-°0 

The  Story  of  my  Life.     With  portrait i-00 

Wonder  Stories  told  for  Children.     Illustrated.     .     .  1.00 

Stories  and  Tales.     Illustrated i-oo 

The  set '°-C° 

William  Henry  Bishop. 

Detmold  :  A  Romance.    "  Little  Classic  "  style.  i8mo  1.25 

The  House  of  a  Merchant  Prince.     i2mo 1.50 

Choy  Susan,  and  other  Stories.     i6mo 1.25 


2  Works  of  Fiction  Published  by 

Bjornstjerne  Bjornson. 

Works.  American  Edition,  sanctioned  by  the  author, 
and  translated  by  Professor  R.  B.  Anderson,  of  the 
University  of  Wisconsin.     In  seven  volumes,  i6mo. 

Synnove  Solbakken. 

Arne. 

A  Happy  Boy. 

The  Fisher  Maiden. 

The  Bridal  March,  and  Other  Stories. 

Captain  Mansana,  and  Other  Stories. 

Magnhild. 

Each  volume ,.  $i.oc 

The  Same.     In  three  volumes,  i2mo 4.50 

Alice  Cary. 

Pictures  of  Country  Life.     i2mo 1.50 

John  Esten  Cooke. 

My  Lady  Pokahontas.     l6mo 1.25 

James  Fenimore  Cooper. 

Complete  Works.  New  Household  Edition,  in  attrac- 
tive binding.  With  Introductions  to  many  of  the 
volumes  by  Susan  Fenimore  Cooper,  and  Illustra- 
tions.    In  thirty-two  volumes,  i6mo. 

Precaution.  The  Prairie. 

The  Spy.  Wept  of  Wish-ton-Wish. 

The  Pioneers.  The  Water  Witch. 

The  Pilot.  The  Bravo. 

Lionel  Lincoln.  The  Heidenmauer. 

Last  of  the  Mohicans.  The  Headsman. 

Red  Rover.  The  Monikins. 

Homeward  Bound.  Miles  Wallingford. 

Home  as  Found.  The  Red  Skins. 

The  Pathfinder.  The  Chainbearer. 

Mercedes  of  Castile.  Satanstoe. 

The  Deerslayer.  The  Crater. 

The  Two  Admirals.  Jack  Tier. 

Wing  and  Wing.  The  Sea  Lions. 

Wyandotte.  Oak  Openings. 

Afloat  and  Ashore.  The  Ways  of  the  Hour. 

(Each  volume  sold  separately.) 

Each  volume 1 .00 

The  set 32.00 

Half  calf 80.00 


Houghton,  Mifflin  and  Company.  3 

New  Fireside  Edition.    With  forty-five  original  Illustra- 
tions by  Darley,  Dielman,  Fredericks,  Sheppard,  and 
Waud.     In  sixteen  volumes,  121110. 
The  set    .     .     .     $20.00        Half  calf  ....  S45.cc 
{Sold  only  in  sets. ) 

Sea  Tales.    New  Household  Edition,  in  attractive  bind- 
ing, the  volumes  containing  Introductions  by  Susan 
Fenimore  Cooper.     Illustrated. 
First  Series.     Including  — 

The  Pilot.  The  Red  Rover. 

The  Water  Witch.  The  Two  Admirals. 

Wing  and  Wing. 

Second  Series.     Including  — 

The  Sea  Lions.  Afloat  and  Ashore. 

Jack  Tier.  Miles  Wallingford. 

The  Crater. 

Each  set,  5  vols.  i6mo  $5.00         Half  calf       .     .     .  12.50 

Leather-Stocking  Tales.  New  Household  Edition,  in 
attractive  binding,  the  volumes  containing  Introduc- 
tions by  Susan  Fenimore  Cooper.  Illustrated  In 
five  volumes,  i6mo. 

The  Deerslayer.  The  Pioneers. 

The  Pathfinder.  The  Prairie. 

Last  of  the  Mohicans. 

The  set $5.00         Half  calf       .     .     .  12.50 

Cooper  Stories  ;  being  Narratives  of  Adventure  se- 
lected from  his  Works.  With  Illustrations  by  F.  O. 
C.  Darley.     In  three  volumes,  i6mo,  each  ....     1. 00 

Thomas  Frederick  Crane. 

Italian  Popular  Tales.  Translated  from  the  Italian. 
With  Introduction  and  a  Bibliography.     8vo  .     .     .     2.50 

Charles  Egbert  Craddock. 

In  the  Tennessee  Mountains.     i6mo i.25 

The  Prophet  of  the  Great  Smoky  Mountains.     161110  .  1.25 
Down  the  Ravine.    A  Story  for  Young  People.     Illus- 
trated.    i6mo 1. 00 

F.  Marion  Crawford. 

To  Leeward.     i6mo 1.25 

A  Roman  Singer.     i6mo 1.25 

An  American  Politician.     i6mo 1.25 

Maria  S.  Cummins. 

The  Lamplighter.     i2mo 1.50 

El  Fureidis.     i2mo 1.50 

Mabel  Vaughan.     i2mo 1.50 


A  Works  of  Fiction  Published  by 

Daniel  De  Foe. 

Robinson  Crusoe.  Illustrations  by  Thomas  Nast  and 
E.  Bayard.     i6mo |ioo 

P.  Deming. 

Adirondack  Stories.     "  Little  Classic "  style.     i8mo  .       .75 
Tompkins  and  other  Folks 1.00 

Thomas  De  Quincey. 

Romances   and   Extravaganzas.      Riverside   Edition. 

i2mo 1.50 

Narrative  and  Miscellaneous  Papers.  Riverside  Edi- 
tion.    i2mo 1.50 

Charles  Dickens. 

Complete  Works.  Illustrated  Library  Edition.  With 
Introductions,  biographical  and  historical,  by  E.  P. 
Whipple.  Containing  all  the  Illustrations  that  have 
appeared  in  the  English  edition  by  Cruikshank,  Phiz, 
Seymour,  John  Leech,  Maclise,  Marcus  Stone,  and 
others,  engraved  on  steel;  to  which  are  added  the  de- 
signs of  F.  O.  C.  Darley  and  John  Gilbert,  in  all  num- 
bering over  550.  Handsomely  bound,  and  complete 
in  twenty-nine  volumes,  i2mo. 

The  Pickwick  Papers,  2  vols.  Dombey  and  Son,  2  vols. 
Nicholas  Nickleby,  2  vols.  Pictures  from  Italy,  and 
Oliver  Twist.  American  Notes. 

Old  Curiosity  Shop,  and  Re-  Bleak  House,  2  vols. 

printed  Pieces,  2  vols.         Little  Dorrit,  2  vols. 
Barnaby  Rudge,  and  Hard     David  Coppeifield,  2  vols. 

Times,  2  vols.  A  Tale  of  Two  Cities. 

Martin  Chuzzlewit,  2  vols.      Great  Expectations. 
Our  Mutual  Friend,  2  vols.     Edwin      Drood,      Master 
Uncommercial  Traveller.  Humphrey's  Clock,  and 

A.  Child's  History  of  Eng-  Other  Pieces. 

land,  and  Other  Pieces.       Sketches  by  Boz. 
Christmas  Books. 

Each  volume i.qo 

The  set.     With  Dickens  Dictionary.     30  vols.     .  45.00 
Half  calf 100.00 

Globe  Edition.  Printed  in  large  type  (long  primer)  on 
good  paper,  and  containing  all  the  Illustrations  of 
Darley  and  Gilbert  (55  in  number)  on  steel,  and  the 
Index  of  Characters.     In  fifteen  volumes,  i2mo. 


Each  volume 


1.25 


The  set 18.75 

Half  calf,  or  half  morocco 40.00 


Houghton,  Mifflin  and  Company.  5 

Christmas  Carol.     Illustrated.    8vo,  full  gilt  ....  $300 

Morocco 7-5° 

The  Same.     32010 75 

Christmas  Books.     Illustrated.     i2mo 2.00 

Morocco  .     .     .     .• 5-00 

Edgar  Fawcett. 

A  Hopeless  Case.  "  Little  Classic "  style.  i8mo  .  1.25 
A  Gentleman  of  Leisure.  "  Little  Classic  "  style.  i8mo  1.00 
An  Ambitious  Woman.     i2mo 1-5° 

Fenelon. 

Adventures  of  Telemachus.     i2mo 2.25 

Harford  Flemming. 

A  Carpet  Knight.     i6mo l-25 

Baron  de  la  Motte  Fouque. 

Undine,  Sintram  and  his  Companions,  with  St.  Pierre's 
"  Paul  and  Virginia,"  32010 •     •       -75 

Undine   and   other  Tales.     Illustrated.     "Riverside 

Classics."     i6mo I>00 

Johann  Wolfgang  von  Goethe. 

Wilhelm   Meister.     Translated   by  Thomas    Carlyle. 

Portrait  of  Goethe.     In  two  volumes.     121110       .     .      3.00 
The  Tale  and  Favorite  Poems.     321110 75 

Oliver  Goldsmith. 

Vicar  of  Wakefield.     Handy-Volume  Edition.     321110, 

gilt  top ,    •    •     •     I-25 

The  Same.    "  Riverside  Classics."    Illustrated.    i6mo      1.00 

Jeanie  T.  Gould  (Mrs.  Lincoln). 

Marjorie's  Quest.     Illustrated.     i2mo 1-5° 

Thomas  Chandler  Haliburton. 

The   Clockmaker;  or,  The  Sayings  and  Doings  of 
Samuel  Slick  of  Slickville.     "  Riverside  Classics. 
Illustrated  by  Darley.     i6mo i-oo 

A.  S.  Hardy. 

But  Yet  a  Woman.     i6mo *-25 

Miriam  Coles  Harris. 

Rutlecke.  A  Perfect  Adonis. 

The  Sutherlands.  Missy. 

Frank  Warrington.  Happy-Go-Lucky. 

St.  Philips.  Phoebe. 

Richard  Vandermarck. 

Each  volume,  i6mo 1,25 


6  Works  of  Fiction  Published  by 

Bret  Harte. 

The  Luck  of  Roaring  Camp,  and  Other  Sketches.  l6mo  $1.50 
The  Same.  Riverside  Aldine  Series.  i6mo  .  .  .  1.00 
Mrs.  Skaggs's  Husbands,  and  Other  Sketches.  i6mo.  1.50 
Tales  of  the  Argonauts,  and  Other  Stories.  i6mo  .  1.50 
Thankful  Blossom.  "  Little  Classic  "  style.  i8mo  .  1.25 
Two  Men  of  Sandy  Bar.     A  Play.     "  Little  Classic  " 

style.     i8mo 1.00 

The  Story  of  a  Mine.  "  Little  Classic  "  style.  i8mo  1.00 
Drift  from  Two  Shores.  "Little  Classic"  style.  iSmo  1.25 
The  Twins  of  Table  Mountain,  and  Other  Sketches. 

"  Little  Classic  "  style.     iSmo  . 1.25 

Works.      Rearranged,   with   an   Introduction   and    a 

Portrait.     In  five  volumes,  crown  8vo. 
Poetical  Works,  and  the  drama,  "Two  Men  of  Sandy 

Bar,"  with  an  Introduction  and  Portrait. 
The  Luck  of  Roaring  Camp,  and  Other  Stories. 
Tales  of  the  Argonauts  and  Eastern  Sketches. 
Gabriel  Conroy. 
Stories  and  Condensed  Novels. 

Each  volume 2.00 

The  set 10.00 

Half  calf 20.00 

Flip,  and  Found  at  Blazing  Star.     "  Little  Classic  " 

style.     i8rr.3        1.00 

In   the   Carquinez  Woods.     "  Little  Classic  "  styh. 

i8mo .    .      1.00 

On  the  Frontier.  "  Little  Classic "  style.  i8mo  .  .  1.00 
By  Shore  and  Sedge.  "  Little  Classic  style."  i8mo.  1.00 
Maruja.     A  Novel.     "Little  Classic"  Style.     iSmo.       1.00 

Nathaniel  Hawthorne. 

Works.  New  Riverside  Edition.  With  an  original 
etching  in  each  volume,  and  a  new  Portrait.  With 
bibliographical  notes  by  George  P.  Lathrop.  Com- 
plete in  twelve  volumes,  crown  8vo. 

Twice-Told  Tales. 

Mosses  from  an  Old  Manse. 

The  House  of  the  Seven  Gables,  and  the  Snow-Image. 

The  Wonder-Book,  Tanglewood  Tales,  and  Grand' 
father's  Chair. 

The  Scarlet  Letter,  and  The  Blithedale  Romance. 

The  Marble  Faun. 

Our  Old  Home,  and  English  Note-Books.     2  vols. 

American  Note-Books. 

French  and  Italian  Note-Books. 


Houghton,  Mifflin  and  Company.  7 

The  Dolliver  Romance,  Fanshawe,  Septimius  Felton, 

and,  in  an  Appendix,  the  Ancestral  Footstep. 
Tales,  Sketches,  and  Other  Papers.     With  Biograph- 
ical Sketch  by  G.  P.  Lathrop,  and  Indexes. 

Each  volume $200 

The  set 24.00 

Half  calf     .     .     .  $48.00         Half  crushed  levant  60.00 
"Little   Classic"  Edition.     Each  volume   contains  a 
new  Vignette  Illustration.     In  twenty-five  volumes, 
i8mo. 

Each  volume 1.00 

The  set 25.00 

Half  calf,  or  half  morocco    $62.50         Tree  calf  .  81.00 
A  Wonder-Book  for  Girls  and  Boys.     Holiday  Edi- 
tion.    With  Illustrations  by  F.  S.  Church.     4to  .     .  2.50 
Twice-Told  Tales.     School  Edition.     iSmo    ....  1.00 
The  Scarlet  Letter.     Holiday  Edition.     Illustrated  by 
Mary  Hallock  Foote.     Red-line  border.     8vo,  full 

gilt 4.00 

Half  calf 6.00 

Morocco,  or  tree  calf 9.00 

Popular  Edition.     i2mo 1.00 

True  Stories  from  History  and  Biography.     i2mo      .  1.50 

The  Wonder-Book.     i2mo 1.50 

Tanglewood  Tales.     121110 1.50 

Tales  of  the  White  Hills,  and  Legends  of  New  Eng- 
land.    32mo 75 

Legends  of  Province  House,  and  A  Virtuoso's  Col- 
lection.    321110 75 

High  Lights.     A  Novel.      i6mo 1.25 

Oliver  Wendell  Holmes. 

Elsie  Vernier.     A  Romance  of  Destiny.     Crown  Svo  .  2.00 

The  Guardian  Angel.     Crown  Svo 2.00 

The  Story  of  Iris.     321110 75 

My  Hunt  after  the  Captain.     321110 40 

A  Mortal  Antipathy.     Crown  8vo 1.50 

Blanche  Willis  Howard. 

One    Summer.      A    Novel.     "Little   Classic"   style.  1.25 

Holiday  Edition.    Illustrated  by  Hoppin.      Sq.  i2mo  2.50 

Augustus  Hoppin. 

Recollections  of  Auton  House.     Illustrated.     Small 

4to r.25 

A  Fashionable  Sufferer.     Illustrated.     l2mo      .     .     .  1.50 

Two  Compton  Boys.     Illustrated.     Square  i6mo       .  1.50 


8  Works  of  Fiction  Published  by 

William  Dean  Howells. 

Their  Wedding  Journey.     Illustrated.     i2mo    .    .     .  $1.50 

The  Same.     Illustrated.     Paper  covers.     i6mo     .     .  .50 

The  Same.    "  Little  Classic "  style.     iSmo   ....  1.25 

A  Chance  Acquaintance.     Illustrated.     i2mo    ...  1.50 

The  Same,     Illustrated.     Paper  covers.     i6mo     .     .  .50 

The  Same.     "Little  Classic "  style.     iSmo  ....  1.25 

A  foregone  Conclusion.     i2mo 1.50 

The  Lady  of  th;  Aroostook.     i2mo 1.50 

The  Undiscovered  Country.     i2mo 1.50 

A  Day's  Pleasure,  etc.     321110 75 

Thomas  Hughes. 

Tom    Brown's    School-Days    at    Rugby.     Illustrated 

Edition.     l6mo i.oo 

Tom  Brown  at  Oxford.     i6mo 1.25 

Henry  James,  Jr. 

A  Passionate  Pilgrim,  and  Other  Tales.     i2mo.     .     .  2.00 

Roderick  Hudson.     i2mo 2.00 

The  American.     i2mo 2.00 

Watch  and  Ward.     "  Little  Classic  "  style.     i8mo     .  1.25 

The  Europeans.     i2mo 1.50 

Confidence.     i2mo 1.50 

The  Portrait  of  a  Lady      121110 2.00 

Anna  Jameson. 

Studies  and  Stories.     "Little  Classic"  style.     i8mo  ,  1.50 

Diary  of  an  Ennuyee.    "  Little  Classic"  style.    i8mo  .  1.50 

Douglas  Jerrold. 

Mrs.  Caudle's  Curtain  Lectures.    Illustrated.   "  River- 
side Classics."     i6mo 1.00 

Sarah  Orne  Jewett. 

Deephaven.     i8mo •  I.25 

Old  Friends  and  New.    i8mo I.25 

Country  By-Ways.     i8mo 1.25 

The  Mate  of  the  Daylight.     iSmo 1.25 

A  Country  Doctor.     i6mo  .     .     .         .....    .  1.25 

A  Marsh  Island.     i6mo 1.25 

Rossiter  Johnson. 

"  Little  Classics."     Each  in  one  volume.     iSmo. 
I.  Exile.  IV.  Life. 

II.  Intellect.  V.  Laughter. 

III.  Tragedy.  VI.  Love. 


Houghton,  Mifflin  and  Company.  9 

VII.  Romance.  XIII.  Narrative  Poems. 

VIII.  Mystery.  XIV.  Lyrical  Poems. 

IX.  Comedy.  XV.  Minor  Poems. 

X.  Childhood.  XVI.  Nature. 

XI.  Heroism.  XVII.  Humanity. 

XII.  Fortune.  XVIII.  Authors. 

Each  volume $1.00 

The  set 18.00 

Half  calf,  or  half  morocco 45«oo 

The  Same.     In  nine  volumes,  square  i6mo. 

The  set 13.50 

Half  calf 27.00 

Tree  calf 40.50 

{Sold  only  in  sets.) 

Charles  and  Mary  Lamb. 

Tales  from  Shakespeare.     iSmo 1.0c 

The  Same.     Illustrated.     i6mo 1.0c 

The  Same.    Handy-Volume  Edition.    321x10,  gilt  top    .     1. 25 

Henry  Waclsworth  Longfellow. 

Hyperion.     A  Romance.     i6mo 1.50 

Popular  Edition.     i6mo 4° 

Popular  Edition.     Paper  covers,  i6mo 15 

Outre-Mer.     i6mo       1.50 

Popular  Edition.      i6mo 40 

Popular  Edition.     Paper  covers,  1 6mo 15 

Kavanagh.     i6mo 1-5° 

S.  Weir  Mitchell. 

In  War  Time.     i6mo 1.25 

Nora  Perry. 

The  Tragedy  of  the  Unexpected,  and  Other  Stories. 

"  Little  Classic  "  style.     iSmo 1.25 

Elizabeth  Stuart  Phelps. 

The  Gates  Ajar.     i6mo 1.50 

Beyond  the  Gates.     i6mo 1.25 

Men,  Women,  and  Ghosts.     i6mo 1.50 

Hedged  In.     i6mo 1.50 

The  Silent  Partner.     i6mo 1.50 

The  Story  of  Avis.     i6mo    . 1.50 

Sealed  Orders,  and  Other  Stories.     i6mo 1.50 

Friends :  A  Duet.     i6mo 1-25 

Doctor  Zay.     i6mo 1-25 

An  Old  Maid's  Paradise.     i6mo 50 

Marian  C.  L.  Reeves  and  Emily  Read. 

Pilot  Fortune.     i6mo 1.25 


IO  Works  of  Fiction  Ptiblished  by 

Riverside  Paper  Series. 

A  Series  of  Novels  by  the  best  American  Authors, 

i.  But  Yet  a  Woman.     By  A.  S.  Hardy. 

2.  Missy.     By  the  author  of  "  Rutledge." 

3.  The  Stillwater  Tragedy.     Ey  T.  B.  Aldrich. 

4.  Elsie  Venner.     By  O.  W.  Holmes. 

5.  An  Earnest  Trifler.     By  Mary  A.  Sprague. 

6.  The  Lamplighter.     By  Maria  S.  Cummins. 

7.  Their  Wedding  Journey.     By  W.  D.  Howells. 

8.  Married  for  Fun.     Anonymous. 

9.  An  Old  Maid's  Paradise.     By  Elizabeth  Stuart 

Phelps. 

10.  The  House  of  a  Merchant  Prince.     By   W.  H 

Bishop. 

11.  An  Ambitious  Woman.     By  Edgar  Fawcett. 

12.  Marjorie's   Quest.      By  Jeanie  T.   Gould    (Mrs. 

Lincoln). 
13-  Hammersmith.     By  Mark  Sibley  Severance. 

Each  volume,  i6mo,  paper  covers $  .50 

Joseph  Xavier  Boniface  Saintine. 

Picciola.     "  Riverside  Classics."     Illustrated.    i6mo  .     1.00 

Jacques  Henri  Bernardin  de  Saint-Pierre. 

Paul  and  Virginia.    "  Riverside  Classics."    Illustrated. 

i6mo       ,     1. 00 

The  Same,  together  with  Undine,  and  Sintram.    32tno       .75 

Sir  Walter  Scott. 

The  Waverley  Novels.  Illustrated  Library  Edition. 
This  edition  has  been  carefully  edited,  and  is  illus- 
trated with  100  engravings  by  Darley,  Dielman, 
Fredericks,  Low,  Share,  Sheppard,  and  has  also  a 
glossary  and  a  very  full  index  of  characters.  In  25 
volumes,  nmo. 

Waverley.  The  Pirate. 

Guy  Mannering.  The  Fortunes  of  Nigel. 

The  Antiquary.  Peveril  of  the  Peak. 

Rob  Roy.  Quentin  Durward. 

Old  Mortality.  St.  Ronan's  Well. 

Black  Dwarf,  and  Legend      Redgauntlet. 
of  Montrose.  The   Betrothed,  and  the 

Heart  of  Mid-Lothian.  Highland  Widow. 

Bride  of  Lammermoor  The  Talisman,  and  Other 

Ivanhoe  Tales. 

The  Monastery.  Woodstock. 

The  Abbot.  The  Fair  Maid  of  Perth. 

Kenilworth.  Anne  of  Geierstein. 


Houghton,  Mifflin  and  Company.  II 

Count  Robert  of  Paris.  The  Surgeon's  Daughter, 

and  Castle  Dangerous. 

Each  volume $1.00 

The  set 25.00 

Half  calf 62.50 

Half  seal 75-00 

Globe  Edition.     Complete   in  13  volumes.     With  100 
Illustrations.     i6mo. 

The  set •     •  l6-25 

Half  calf,  or  half  morocco 35-00 

{Sold  only  in  sets. ) 
Tales  of  a  Grandfather.     Illustrated  Library  Edition. 

With  six  steel  plates.     In  three  volumes,  i2mo  .     .     4.50 

Half  calf 9-°° 

Ivanhoe.     Fancy  binding.     8vo 100 

Half  calf 2-5° 

Horace  E.  Scudder. 

The  Dwellers  in  Five-Sisters'  Court.     i6mo  ....     1.25 
Stories  and  Romances.     i6mo 1-25 

Mark  Sibley  Severance. 

Hammersmith:  His  Harvard  Days.     i2mo   ....     1.50 

J.  E.  Smith. 

Oakridge  :  An  Old-Time  Story  of  Maine.     i2mo    .     .     2.00 

Mary  A.  Sprague. 

An  Earnest  Trifier.     i6mo 1-25 

William  W.  Story. 

Fiammetta.     i6mo I«2.S 

Harriet  Beecher  Stowe. 

Agnes  of  Sorrento.     i2mo ^S0 

The  Pearl  of  Orr's  Island.     i2mo i-5° 

Uncle    Tom's  Cabin.      Popular  Illustrated  Edition. 

l2mo 2.00 

The  Minister's  Wooing.     i2mo i-5° 

The  Mayflower,  and  Other  Sketches.     i2mo       .     .     .  1.50 

Dred.     i2mo '-5° 

Oldtown  Folks,     nmo i-5c 

Sam   Lawson's    Fireside    Stories.     Illustrated.     Neiv 

Edition,  enlarged •     •  I-5° 

My  Wife  and  I.     Illustrated.     i2mo 1.50 

We  and  Our  Neighbors.     Illustrated.     i2mo      .     .     .  1.50 

Poganuc  People.     Illustrated.     12010 1.50 

The  above  eleven  volumes,  in  box 16  50 


12  Works  of  Fiction. 

Uncle  Tom's  Cabin.  Holiday  Edition.  With  red  line 
border,  Introduction,  and  a  Bibliography  by  George 
Bullen,  of  the  British  Museum.  Over  ioo  Illustra- 
tions.    i2mo $3-5° 

Half  calf 6.00 

Morocco,  or  tree  calf 7.50 

The  Same.     Popular  Edition.     121110 1.00 

Gen.  Lew  Wallace. 

The  Fair  God  ;  or,  The  Last  of  the  'Tzins.     i2mo  .     1.50 

Henry  Watterson. 

Oddities  in  Southern  Life  and  Character.    Illustrated. 

l6mo 1.50 

Richard  Grant  White. 

The  Fate  of  Mansfield  Humphreys,  together  with  the 
Episode  of  Mr.  Washington  Adams  in  England. 
i6mo 1.25 

Adeline  D.  T.  Whitney. 

Faith  Gartney's  Girlhood.     Illustrated.     i2mo   .     .     .  1.50 

Hitherto:  A  Story  of  Yesterdays.     i:mo      ....  1.50 

Patience  Strong's  Outings.     i2mo 1.50 

The  Gayworthys.     i2mo .  1.50 

Leslie  Goldthwaite.     Illustrated.     i2mo 1.50 

We  Girls :  A  Home  Story.     Illustrated.     i2mo     .     .  1.50 

Real  Folks.     Illustrated.     i2mo 1.50 

The  Other  Girls.     Illustrated.     i2mo 1.50 

Sights  and  Insights.     2  vols.  i2mo 3.00 

Odd,  or  Even  ?     i2mo 1.50 

Boys  at  Chequasset.     Illustrated.     i2mo  .....  1.50 

Bonnyborough.     121110 1.50 

The  above  thirteen  volumes  in  box J9-50 

***  For  sale  by  all  Booksellers.  Sent, post-paid,  on  receipt  0/ price  (in 
check  on  Boston  or  New  York,  money-order,  or  registered  letter)  by  the 
Publishers. 

HOUGHTON,   MIFFLIN   AND   COMPANY, 

4  Park  St.,  Boston,  Mass.  ;  1 1  East  Seventeenth  St 
New  York. 

A  Catalogue  containing  portraits  of  many  of  the  above  authors, 
with  a  description  of  their  works,  will  be  sent  free,  on  application, 
to  any  address. 


une   summer 


£49470 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


;  -    ;      » 


! 


1       '      :  ■  • 


